


To Be Known

by Honestmabe, Ineffability_In_Eden (Honestmabe)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alpha Crowley (Good Omens), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), BAMF Aziraphale (Good Omens), BAMF Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Eventual Smut, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Knights - Freeform, M/M, Minor Character Death, Omega Aziraphale (Good Omens), Original Character Death(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:01:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 79,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25012846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honestmabe/pseuds/Honestmabe, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honestmabe/pseuds/Ineffability_In_Eden
Summary: Two legendary knights form an unlikely alliance to prevent a war until their form of communication fails them.Prince Crowley is charged with leading an attack on Heaven's capital. He succeeds but spares the royal family in exchange for the youngest prince to stay.Will the knights find their way back to each other? Will the two princes learn to trust each other? Leave it up to the ineffability of fate.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 777
Kudos: 528
Collections: Courts GO Re-Reads





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Just a CW for this chapter: There are implications of rape/non-con but it doesn't happen
> 
> Also, a special shoutout to Shay_Moonsilk for helping me tremendously with being more descriptive <3

The Black Knight clutched at his wound, hissing profanities as his attackers surrounded him. One of his many attackers had swooped in and slashed at his side while he was distracted with another. Cowardly bastards. There was no way he could fight all of them while injured. He was led to believe there would be a border skirmish but in the end, but it turned out to be a trap. Damn it all. He raised his sword, despite the pain in his side. Dying without a fight was never an option for him.  
  
Suddenly, as if some higher power saw fit to intervene, an avenging angel appeared before him. The knight was adorned in silver armor and a pristine white cape, lined with fur. They rode their white stallion into the fray with their shoulders squared and head held high before calmly dismounting. They pointed his sword at the Black Knight’s attackers and then pointed in a different direction. A clear message for the bastards to sod off. The Black Knight smirked, though no one could see it. He liked this knight’s guts.  
  
The men all exchanged a look, looking amused, before advancing on the White Knight, who moved into a fighting stance, not the barest hint of cowardice in the face of all his attackers. 

What followed would be forever ingrained in the Black Knight’s mind. 

With a single-minded focus, the White Knight moved, their strikes and blows were clean and concise, not allowing any room for flair and drama. Privately, the Black Knight thought this was a shame, they personally favored being a flashy bastard during a fight, but to each their own and all that. He shook his thoughts before jumping into the fray, helping the mysterious knight to cut down the last of the men until they were the only ones left standing.  
  
He clutched his side, letting out a wheezy chuckle, “Well that went down like a lead balloon.”  
  
The White Knight tilted their head, presumably to look at him, but said nothing.  
  
“I said that went down like a lead balloon,” He repeated. Was the White Knight unable to speak? Maybe he couldn’t hear?  
  
Still no response.  
  
“So uh…” He trailed off as the knight began walking away “Alright. No talking. I get it. Professional business this all was.”  
  
The White Knight inclined their head in farewell before leaving.  
  
“Well… that was a thing,” He muttered to himself.  
  
  
  
“Oi!” The Black Knight called out when he saw the familiar suit of armor, also trying to prevent the skirmish at the border between Heaven and Hell “I remember you!”  
  
The White Knight looked in his general direction before sending their sword directly at him. He barely had time to react before someone cryed out from behind him. He glanced at his unforeseen attacker and then back to the other knight, who had come closer to fetch their sword. Silent as always.  
  
“You seem to be fond of rescuing me,” He joked, laughing.  
  
No response.  
  
“Look, we can work together-” He reached out to touch their shoulder but was cut off by a sudden sword to his throat, a clear answer. “Alright- Alright. I get it. Not your thing.” The knight backed away and he relaxed.  
  
The other knight just walked away without another word.  
  
The Black Knight flung his hands up, exasperated, before turning around and heading back to the battle.  
  
  
  
“I get the whole ‘mysterious, silent type’ thing but do you _really_ never speak, ever?” The Black Knight asked them as he rode his horse alongside the White Knight’s. “I mean, I don’t know a single thing about you.”  
  
The White Knight turned to him and he could tell that they were giving him a deadpan look from behind their helmet. He could just tell. No one did judgemental silences as well as this elusive white knight. At least it made missions like these interesting.  
  
They rode in silence after that before splitting ways.  
  


“So are you a beta or an alpha?” He asked them casually. As usual, there was no response. Determined to get _something_ , he wheedled, “C’mon, we’ve been silently working together for three years. Give me something.”  
  
The White Knight just shook his head, staying silent as they sharpened their sword, leaning against a tree.  
  
“I never get a whiff of anything off you so I’m going to assume you’re a beta,” The Black Knight told him. “Your secret is out. Now to figure out your pronouns and name…”  
  
The White Knight tilted their head, definitely exasperated. Maybe they were always exasperated with The Black Knight’s wheedling and incessant questioning.

  
  
The Black Knight left a note at their drop spot. He had pointed this spot out to the White Knight for the two of them to exchange correspondence and they had been using it for years. He still didn’t know anything about them even after half a decade of working together but he understood why someone wouldn’t want to reveal their name and face, he couldn’t either after all.  
  
The note was urgent, signaling an attack on Heaven’s capital and the intent to take control of the throne. If they couldn’t stop it… there would be terrible repercussions for everyone in both kingdoms.”  
  
He could only hope that the White Knight found the note in time.

Crowley attempted to conceal his scowl as they marched through the streets of Heaven and up to the castle. Luckily, the civilians were too frightened to give them much trouble. The knights and soldiers on the other hand… they were trying at the very least. How unfortunate for them they were so outnumbered.  
  
They easily burst into the castle, fighting through the royal guards and all the way to the throne room where his personal knights had moved ahead and gathered the royal family, three alphas. His second in command, Millicent, approached him to speak in a hushed tone, “They have an omega prince but he’s currently, erm, indisposed.”  
  
He nodded in understanding and waved her away before facing the royal family. He eyed the biggest one “You must be Gabriel.” He tilted his head in at the woman “Michael.” He eyed the alpha that was balding “And Sandalphon. My how the mighty have fallen. I’m sure you know Hell takes no prisoners…”  
  
Gabriel spoke up then, “Prince Crowley, I would like to negotiate.”  
  
“You’re in no position to do so… however, I do like entertainment. Go on.” He smirked.  
  
“Our brother… the youngest. As you have been informed, he’s in heat,” Gabriel told him.  
  
Crowley rolled his eyes. He’d never allow an omega to come to harm, especially while in such a delicate condition.  
  
“If you let us go... if you allow us to live. You can have him.”  
  
The alpha’s mind went to a screeching halt, not wanting to comprehend what he had been told, “What?”  
  
“He’s a virgin and built well for breeding. He’s a known beauty all throughout Heaven and many alphas have wanted to pursue him-”  
  
The prince cut him off, seething “Just to be clear, you’re trading your brother’s chastity, while he’s in a situation in which he cannot consent, for your freedom?”  
  
“It would make it easier for you while he’s in heat. He’s quite frigid otherwise, being this old and never taking an alpha,”  
  
Crowley glared them down until they were all three cowering under his gaze but didn’t address them as he spoke “They are to be stripped naked and sent without any weapons or food. Make it known that harboring these three in the kingdom of heaven is treason, punishable by death.”  
  
Millicent clutched an armored fist over her chest and bowed “Yes sire… and the omega?”  
  
The redhead scowled “I’ll deal with him in a bit.”

  
He made his way to the omega’s wing of the castle, flanked by his third and fourth in command, Savaric and Gilbert. They were alphas, but both mated to each other, as rare as it was. He could trust them not to let an omega’s heat get the best of them.

The prince’s wing of the castle was bare and empty, just like the rest of the castle. He frowned. He needed to put a few tapestries up, spruce the place up a bit. Did the omega like tapestries? Probably. Everyone loved a good tapestry.  
  
As he approached the prince’s bed chambers, he could smell both the heat and the distress from the invasion. He sighed, turning to his men “Stand guard. If an alpha tries to come here, he is to be jailed immediately.” Without another word, he strode into the room.  
  
The scent inside was nearly overpowering but he tried to focus on breathing through his mouth as he approached the bed where the omega lay, shivering in a sweat-soaked nightgown that clung to every curve… he really was the beauty of Heaven with his soft body and angelic golden hair. He cleared his throat, reaching out to lay a comforting hand on the omega’s shoulder.

“It’s alright, you’ll be safe-” His words died in his throat as the omega whirled on him, clutching a dagger and pointing it at him threateningly. He held his hands up, backing away but captivated by the omega’s blue eyes… so full of fire “I’m sorry to frighten you, I just-”  
  
“Touch me and I will kill you,” The omega hissed at him, trembling as he spoke. He was clearly fighting the urge to beg for the alpha to take him. Crowley felt sorry for him, it must be rough to have one’s body betray you like this, especially in such a perilous situation. Luckily for the both of them, Crowley had a good grip on his self-control and would sooner cut off his own hand than force it on someone, especially an omega.  
  
“I wasn’t going to touch you anywhere but your shoulder, I promise,” He told him in a soothing tone, “Do you need an alpha scent? You don’t seem to have one and it will make our heat easier.”  
  
The omega looked confused but still held up the dagger, still trembling and fighting his urge to pounce on the alpha. Crowley knew he needed to leave soon.  
  
Crowley slowly loosened his shirt and cape before removing them and tossing them to the omega who clutched them close to his chest, clearly relaxing as the scent of an unmated alpha washed over him. Crowley slowly backed toward the door. “I have guards outside your room to protect you and I assure you no harm will come to you under my care. When you’re feeling up to it, you’re welcome to join me at mealtime.”  
  
He closed the door gently, taking gulps of fresh air as he fought against his body’s reaction to the omega. He refused to be that alpha that took and took and never gave a damn about how everyone felt about it. He looked up to find Millicent standing before him. He cleared his throat “Do you happen to know what the omega’s name is?”  
  
“Prince Aziraphale of Heaven, sire,” Millicent responded without missing a beat. She cleared her throat “Sire…. If I may…”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Please put on a shirt. It’s uncouth.” Millicent told him, grinning.  
  
“Milly, you’re my second in command for this very reason,” He chuckled, gesturing at Savaric and Gilbert to stand near the door “We’ll be readying the castle and making changes for my rule. Remember my instructions from earlier. I’m to be informed when he is over his heat.”  
  
“Yes, Sire!” They both told him in unison.  
  
“Oh, please drop the formalities, no one is around.” He winked at them before walking away with Millicent following after him.  
  
When Prince Aziraphale recovered from his heat, they would talk. He didn’t see a problem with allowing the omega to stay, keeping his status. If anything, it would make the citizens and staff more complacent under his rule. There was something about him too… something that made it hard for the alpha to stop thinking of him. Crowley wanted to know him, truly.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Brief mention of rape/con-con (just Crowley bringing up what Gabriel said) and brief mention of sex trafficking (literally gets cut off mid-sentence it's so brief)

Aziraphale slowly blinked open his eyes and stretched his sore muscles before sitting up in bed, relieved that his heat appeared to be over with. He trailed an absentminded hand through his curls and grimaced. He needed a bath, surely, and food. As he moved to sit up, his eyes landed on a black shirt and red cape before shooting wide open. Oh- that alpha. So it wasn’t a dream…  
  
He grimaced yet again as he assessed the alpha’s scent gift. It was ruined, to put it lightly. He knew he ought to have felt bad for ruining such expensive-looking clothing but he supposed the alpha had owed it to him after giving him such a fright and during an invasion too! He decided to ignore the fabric for the moment as he slipped on a robe over his nightgown and walked to the doors of his bed-chamber. There were no guards in sight. Odd.

“Gilbert-” A soft giggle followed the word whispered from a nearby alcove “We’re supposed to be guarding-”  
  
“He’s asleep, my love-”   
  
“I’m not actually,” Aziraphale called out in a haughty tone, interrupting them “I understand there was an alpha that wanted to see me? Fetch me my Lady in Waiting, Anathema Device, and inform her I need her assistance.”   
  
Two men stepped out, looking sheepish. One was tall with dark hair and stunning green eyes while the other was slightly shorter, but not by much, and blond with kind-looking brown eyes. The blond stepped forward and bowed apologetically “My apologies, your highness, my husband and I didn’t know you were awake.”   
  
Aziraphale caught their scents then. Alphas, both of them. Their mixed scents, which he supposed was from the two of them being a mated pair were lemongrass and sage with hints of the ocean. He eyed them coldly “Obviously. As I said, I need my Lady in my chambers immediately. Who was the alpha who spoke to me before?”   
  
“Prince Crowley, your highness,” The brunet answered.   
  
Ah, so Hell did succeed in their invasion. He turned without another word and strode back into his bedroom.   
  
  
“You gave those poor alphas quite the scare,” Anathema laughed while sprinkling rose petals into his bathtub as he undressed behind a screen. She then added plenty of perfumes and scented oils to mask his natural scent.   
  
“How long has it been since they’ve taken over the palace?” Aziraphale asked her, frowning to himself.   
  
“Three days. Prince Crowley seems to be less of a tyrant than your brother, at least so far,” Anathema commented, “I was nearly arrested for approaching your chambers, though.”

Aziraphale stepped out from the screen, his face red “Why? Because you’re an alpha!?”  
  
“Yes. Prince Crowley ordered that any alpha caught approaching your bed chambers while you were in heat was to be arrested immediately. I escaped arrest by pointing out that I’m mated to my own omega and they can ask anyone in the palace for verification of my rank as your Lady in Waiting. The guards he assigned seemed to be reasonable fellows.”   
  
“Reasonable as two men I caught snogging while on duty can be, I suppose,” Aziraphale groused as he sat in the water before sighing “I loathe how I feel after a heat.”   
  
“If you let an alpha help you, it would go along faster and easier,” Anathema pointed out, not unkindly.   
  
“Ah, yes. Let an alpha impregnate me repeatedly until I’m too old to give birth to healthy children and I’m cast aside for their new omega to take my place,” Aziraphale quipped sarcastically “What a life.”   
  
“I wouldn’t do that to Newt and you know it,” Anathema sighed as she stood up to walk to his wardrobe “Would you like the cream gown or the blue for this afternoon?”   
  
“Cream,” Aziraphale responded, “I know that you wouldn’t do that to Newt but you genuinely care for him. Any alpha that marries me will want me for political gain and an heir. It wouldn’t be love.”   
  
“You don’t know that,” Anathema sighed “My grandmother insists she sees an alpha falling head over heels for you in your future and she’s rarely wrong about such things.”   
  
Aziraphale stood from the tub and wrapped a towel around himself before walking behind the screen to dry off and slip on his chemise “Agnes only said that because she wants me to be happy.”   
  
“We all want you to be happy,” Anathema told him. When she spoke next he heard the smirk in her voice “Why do I smell alpha on your bed?”   
  
“Prince Crowley took it upon himself to attempt to speak to me while I was in heat,” Aziraphale told her irritably “I nearly killed him.”   
  
“Not a safe venture with you,” Anathema laughed before stepping behind the screen with him and helping him into his corset “He’s handsome though.” He relaxed slightly as he was met with the mixed scents of his two best friends, lavender and vanilla with hints of herbs.   
  
“I barely remember,” Aziraphale lied. He actually remembered Crowley quite vividly, from his strange, amber-colored eyes to his hooked nose, strong jawline, and flaming red hair. He was beautiful for an alpha. Beautiful enough to be the alpha in his fantasies for the past few days of his heat. The overwhelming scent of smoke and something sweet underneath hadn’t helped deter his fantasies, only encouraged them.   
  
His best friend saw through it and chuckled to herself as she helped him into his petticoat next “Is that why his clothes look-”   
  
“Oh hush!” He interrupted her, blushing “We need to burn that before my chamber servants get here. You know how they gossip.”   
  
“Awe, a shame,” Anathema laughed as she reached for his upper petticoat.

Crowley stood up as the other prince was announced. Aziraphale was wearing a conservative, corset gown that hid his curves and created new ones. This was to be expected, omegas tended to wear feminine clothing, despite their primary gender. Crowley found he much preferred the nightgown but it was hardly his place to tell the omega that. The omega carried himself with his shoulders held back and his head held high, the picture of nobility and beauty. His eyes… they were cold and impassive with no trace of the fire from before. Crowley felt something like disappointment at that. They bowed politely and Crowley sat after the blond did. They sat in silence as the servants served them breakfast. 

After an agonizingly long breakfast of mostly watching the omega prince stare blankly and pick at his food that seemed to be made of green sludge, the alpha cleared his throat “I suppose we need to talk.”  
  
Aziraphale just stared at him silently. Crowley was suddenly reminded of someone else, someone who wasn’t there when he needed them more than ever. He shook that thought before speaking again “You look lovely by the way-”   
  
“I’m sorry, sir, I need to excuse myself,” Aziraphale told him politely, his face was as cold and impassive as it had been when he’d entered the room.

“I- What?”  
  
“Perhaps, Your Highness, when speaking to another prince whose kingdom you’ve just invaded, you’d be pertinent to keep comments on their appearance out of it. Good day.” He stood and strode from the room without looking back. 

Crowley heard a chortle from behind him and glared at Millicent, who had just entered the room “Oh, shut up. I just-”  
  
“You got distracted at how beautiful he is and forgot the circumstance by which you’re here?” Millicent supplied, looking amused.   
  
“Maybe a little,” Crowley sighed “There’s just something about him…”   
  
“He’s strong and you like it,” Millicent pointed out, not attempting to hide her mirth “Almost like someone else I had to hear about for half a decade…”   
  
“Milly-”   
  
Millicent rolled her eyes and held out some documents, thankfully changing the subject “The original tax system of Heaven.”   
  
“This much for the palace budget and not a single tapestry!?” Crowley nearly shouted, not comprehending “Do these bastards just sit on wealth like bloody dragons?” 

“Yes, though the alpha royal siblings appeared to live a more lavish lifestyle than the omega.”  
  
“Of course they did,” Crowley growled before sliding back from the dinner table and reading over the form as he walked away, his second in command trailing after him “Pass this off to Savaric and tell him to reallocate over half of the palace budget towards infrastructure and helping needy families.”   
  
“Yes, sire,”   
  
“Oh, and let Prince Aziraphale know that dinner will be at the usual time as it was before my coming here and that I want to truly speak with him. Send my apologies for earlier.”   
  
Millicent frowned but nodded “Yes, sire.”

  
Aziraphale sat in the garden and opened his book. Worn and ragged around the edges as it was, it was his most cherished possession after his brother became king and banned him from reading anything but what he deemed appropriate for omegas. Unsurprisingly, what Gabriel considered appropriate were books on mothering and how to please an alpha. He shuddered at the thought before returning his attention to his book.   
  
He startled when a branch snapped nearby and he looked up to find the blond alpha from earlier, looking sheepish. An alpha, sheepish. What a thought.   
  
The omega quickly hid his book underneath the edge of his skirt and squared his shoulders “Yes?”   
  
“His highness requests you for dinner this evening and sends his apologies for his behavior this morning,” The alpha told him, bowing. 

“He sent his apologies did he?” Aziraphale asked him, coldly “What is your name?”  
  
“Savaric, your highness.”   
  
“Savaric, please inform him that I will attend dinner this evening but its bad manners to send apologies through others instead of doing so himself.   
  
The alpha knight looked amused but said nothing as he bowed and walked away.   
  
Aziraphale sighed and pulled his book from hiding before resuming from where he had been so rudely interrupted.   
  


Crowley wasn’t alone when Aziraphale entered the dining room. He smelled an omega before he saw her, leaning over Crowley’s chair as they reviewed a document together. His mate? No, she didn’t have his scent. He barely had time to ponder over that before the prince looked up and stood, nearly knocking into the woman in his haste “Prince Aziraphale.”  
  
“Prince Crowley,” Aziraphale greeted him with polite indifference before his eyes drifted to the woman “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”   
  
“Knight Millicent, your highness, Prince Crowley’s second in command and Black Crow of the East,” She bowed politely.   
  
Aziraphale was impressed “An omega knight second in command to an alpha? Quite an accomplishment.” He’d heard of her, of course. The Black Crow of the East was most known for her quick and agile attacks that seemed to rain from the sky as she used her agility to her advantage and lept over her opponents or jumped them from higher ground. She was rumored to have traveled with The Black Knight frequently.   
  
“It is, but I’ve never met anyone more deserving,” Prince Crowley said fondly, smiling over at her before waving towards an empty seat to his right “But please, sit down.”   
  
Aziraphale hesitated for a moment. In the dining room, the King sat at the head of the table while his Queen sat to his right. It was an old royal custom in Heaven. He sat, trying not to think about how it felt like a shackle settling into place.   
  
Knight Millicent gathered up the documents and bowed to both of them “We can review these further after dinner if you please, your highness.”   
  
“That sounds feasible to me. Go over the guard rotations with Gilbert and the both of you can discuss that with me as well.”   
  
“Yes, sire.”   
  
She left the two of them and they sat in awkward, heavy silence while the servants served their dinner. Crowley frowned at Aziraphale’s food. It was the green sludge again. The omega didn’t look happy about it either as he absentmindedly picked at his food.   
  
Crowley cleared his throat “I misspoke earlier, I apologize,”   
  
Aziraphale just looked at him, the only indication he was listening.   
  
“It wasn’t my choice to invade Heaven. I was on my father’s orders,” Crowley told him honestly “Though, after coming here I’ve learned your brother was a tyrant and I realized I want to help. To be better than him.”   
  
“An alpha wanting to be superior to another alpha?” Aziraphale scoffed quietly “How novel.”   
  
Crowley leveled him with a glare “Well, your brother set the bar quite low considering my first meeting with him he all but told me to rape you.”   
  
The omega’s face colored slightly “Then why didn’t you? You obviously kept me for a reason.”   
  
“Political reasons, for one,” Crowley admitted, “Your people love you. Everyone on the continent knows that. If you were gone, they’d be unsettled and frightened. For the second reason, I just didn’t think you’d enjoy it when your alpha siblings sold you in order to regain their former lifestyle. A pretty omega like you can fetch a high price-” He broke off as a glass of wine was splashed in his face.   
  
Aziraphale was standing, empty glass in hand and a fire in his eyes like the one Crowley had seen when they had first met. The blond sat the glass on the table casually, as if he didn’t just slosh someone with it “If you’ll excuse me.” He began to walk from the room and Crowley found himself standing up.   
  
“No, you can’t just act like that with me-”   
  
“Or what?” Aziraphale cut him off, his voice soft but carrying, even in the large marble room “You’ll have me killed? A kinder fate than whatever else I have in the future being under your thumb.” He turned to leave and Crowley said nothing as he watched him go.

Aziraphale didn’t address the alpha or speak to him for three weeks. The alpha requested him for all meals and Aziraphale informed his knights to tell him that he ‘Disrespectfully declined.’ They seemed amused by that and the omega didn’t want to think about what sort of prince was ridiculed by his own command.   
  
He was reading in the garden one evening when someone settled on the bench next to him. He smelled alpha before he addressed the man sitting next to him, knowing it was too late to hide his precious book “Prince Crowley, to what do I owe the displeasure.”   
  
To his surprise, the alpha chuckled self deprecatingly “You really don’t hold back, do you?”   
  
“I hold back many things, your highness, I just don’t feel the need to drag this out. If you wish to have me executed, so be it.” Aziraphale told him primly.   
  
“I have never, nor will I ever want you executed,” the alpha told him, sounding amused. He sighed then, his shoulders slumping “I’m sorry. What I said before was in bad taste.”   
  
“Quite,” Aziraphale agreed, sniffing delicately and playing the part he was given from birth. The spoiled omega prince.   
  
“I really do need you to make this work,” Crowley told him sincerely “Your people won’t listen unless they think I have your support.”   
  
“What, may I ask, have you done to earn it?” Aziraphale asked him, his eyes hardening.   
  
“I can show you. My comrades and I have been working day and night for weeks on a system reform of Heaven that is intended to help the common people.” Crowley told him, his voice silky smooth and not giving away any indication of falsehood. Though, what a laughable concept it was. An alpha asking an omega for his opinion on political matters.   
  
“Alright, I’ll look,” Aziraphale agreed hesitantly when he realized that Crowley’s scent showed no deceit either “If you’ll answer one question that’s been plaguing me since I heard about you years ago.”   
  
“Yes, of course.”   
  
“Why do you and your knights sit at a round table?” He asked him, his blue eyes turning intense as he gauged the alpha’s reaction to being questioned by an omega.   
  
“Well, when you have a group of three alphas, a beta, and an omega… perceptions of ranking in that group can be skewed by outsiders. I sit at a round table to send a clear message that any alpha, beta, and omega is equal in my eyes and we aren’t going to be divided into ranks by something as frivolous as gender.”   
  
Aziraphale’s lips twitched into what was almost a smile as he stood, clutching his book to his chest “Alright, I agree to hear you out and make a decision based on the evidence you present to me.”   
  


“Thank you for at least considering this little arrangement,” Crowley bowed deeply, almost playfully, before standing back up and eyeing his book “You must really like that book.”  
  
Aziraphale’s hands tightened on his prized possession and the alpha’s eyes softened but he didn’t comment as he gestured for Aziraphale to follow. He did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope yall enjoyed it! Please be sure to leave kudos and comments because I absolutely live for them! <3


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy! <333333

Crowley led Aziraphale to the grand library and opened the door for the omega to step through. Aziraphale was immediately greeted with both the sight and noise of Savaric, Gilbert, and Millicent sitting at a table and fussing at each other loudly. Crowley chuckled dryly from beside Aziraphale before speaking up “Oi! Mind your manners, the lot of you! We have a guest.”  
  
Millicent rolled her eyes and hopped from her perch at the edge of the table to a standing position. Looking at the pair, she said, “I’m an omega and I don’t mind it.” She was wearing men’s clothing, a deep purple brocade coat with her white shirt unbuttoned underneath and tucked into tight black trousers. His eyes drifted to a tattoo right underneath the middle of her breasts and he flushed, looking away. Indecent apparel for an omega, but he had to admit the aesthetic worked for her.   
  
The redhead scoffed fondly “Barely.” 

Crowley turned to the blond “I believe a formal introduction is in order before we begin our business. You’ve met Millicent, of course.” Millicent inclined her head to him and Aziraphale gave her a polite nod in turn. 

The Prince Gestured at where Savaric and Gilbert were now approaching where they stood, “Savaric of Heaven, also known as Knight Lionheart. Gilbert of Gaia, also known as Knight Valiant. I’m sure you’ve heard of them?” 

Savaric was wearing a green floral robe over a loose beige shirt and brown trousers while his husband simply wore a tight-fitting black shirt and black trousers, his face stoic. An odd bunch, to say the least.  
  
Aziraphale had heard of them. It seemed The Black Knight and Prince Crowley kept similar company. He gave them all a polite nod and said, “I’ve heard of the lot of you. Rumor says you’ve fought alongside The Black Knight.”   
  
Crowley cleared his throat. In a slightly hoarse tone, he said, “My command is made up of individual knights who swear allegiance to me and me alone. If fighting alongside rogue knights piques their interests in their free time, they are free to do so.”   
  
The omega supposed that made sense. “You told me there was a beta?” Aziraphale asked.   
  
“They’re doing a special task for me at the moment,” Prince Crowley answered vaguely before walking to the table and pulling out a chair at the head of it. “Have a seat?”   
  
Aziraphale hesitantly sat, unsure of why the alpha would give up his seat at the head of the table to an omega. Everyone settled in at the table once again, apparently unbothered by an omega sitting at the head of the table. Millicent sat on the edge of the table next to where Aziraphale sat, and Crowley stood behind the omega’s chair as the woman passed a thick file to him “Perhaps we should begin? This is the tax reform Sir Savaric has worked out, and Prince Crowley has reviewed. We’ll be asking your approval before passing it along with several other reforms-”   
  
“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale interrupted “ _My_ approval?”   
  
“I told you I needed you,” Crowley chided softly from behind him, “You do understand a bit about governing and such, don’t you?”   
  
The omega’s face colored with embarrassment. “I don’t actually. King Gabriel said that it wasn’t an omega’s place to know such things.”   
  
“Well, it’s a bloody good thing he isn’t in charge anymore then, isn’t it?” Crowley snorted. 

Millicent gave a short laugh as well before pointing out different numbers on the file and explaining to Aziraphale what they all meant.  
  
The blond was astounded after she had finished. He looked to the blond alpha “You did this yourself?” The tax reform was designed to help the poor and needy by taxing the rich at a slightly higher rate and cutting part of the excessive royal budget. Aziraphale had always held such desires, but the inner workings of the kingdom’s budget had always been withheld from him. Seeing a plan to make it happen was… it was as nice as it was novel.   
  
Sir Savaric looked sheepish, blushing slightly. “Crowley gave me a basic outline of what he wanted and I did the numbers.” The alpha didn’t seem to notice he had addressed his prince without a title, nor did anyone else but Aziraphale seem to notice. An odd bunch indeed.   
  
“You did a splendid job, from what I could make of it,” Aziraphale told him sincerely, with the poise and grace of a king complimenting his subject on a job well done. He tilted his head to look up at the prince behind his chair 

“What else do you have to show me? I’ll admit, you’ve piqued my interest. This doesn’t mean I will agree, only that I will listen further.” He added the last part on, mostly to make it clear to the other prince that he wasn’t willing to just bend to his will.  
  
Crowley leaned over the chair, looking down at the omega with a strange softness “I suppose we can get on to our plan to help the poorer areas of the country.”   
  
  
“So you agreed?” Anathema asked him, shocked.   
  
Aziraphale pouted at her via his reflection in the vanity mirror as he removed his jewelry.

“Of course! He actually had a few good ideas and I can hardly ignore he seems to hold at least some respect for omegas. His second in command is one.”

Anathema hummed thoughtfully as she put away his gown. “What exactly does the arrangement entail?”  
  
“Just my giving him full support in the eyes of the people. A simple job, really.”   
  
“How disappointing, I was hoping for an arranged marriage.” Anathema teased. Aziraphale turned to give her a scandalized look. She laughed “Oh, don’t look at me like that. He’s gorgeous and you can’t pretend you haven’t noticed.”   
  
“Well, I’ve met many gorgeous alphas that only saw me as a breeding tool,” Aziraphalehuffed.   
  
“Oh, but you enjoyed those tournaments for your hand so much,” Anathema quipped sarcastically.   
  
The blond shuddered “I most certainly did not! It was sexist, not to mention barbaric, to have a tournament for an omega’s hand in marriage. No one ever thinks the omega may want a say in things.”   
  
Anathema fondly shook her head at him as she made her way to the door. “Goodnight, dove.”   
  
“Goodnight, dear." 

Aziraphale joined Crowley for breakfast and they ate in silence for a while before the alpha spoke up. “Why do you eat that?”  
  
Aziraphale paused, sending him a questioning look and arching an eyebrow.   
  
“You clearly don’t enjoy whatever that sludge is… so why do you eat it?” Crowley asked again.   
  
“King Gabriel said-”   
  
“I’ve heard enough,” Crowley cut him off. The omega felt anger rise in him but it quelled and then bloomed into curiosity when Crowley waved a servant over.

Crowley then issued an order. “Give his highness a suitable breakfast. From here on out I want his meals to match my own and I never want to see that sludge again. Gabriel is no longer the king here. Am I understood?”  
  
“Yes, sire.” The servant bowed before walking away.

Aziraphale stared at him, struggling not to show emotion. “You didn’t have to do that,” he told him quietly, unused to someone, especially an alpha, taking his needs into account.

When Gabriel had come into power he decided that it was the prime opportunity to exert control over the sibling he detested the most. It began with small things, like teasing comments, before turning into Gabriel informing the cooks that Aziraphale was to be put on a _special_ diet and then taking control over who the omega spoke to, what he could read, and where he could go. It was his living nightmare for what had been nearly a decade.   
  
The redhead just eyed him, and asked, “Did you enjoy your sludge?”   
  
“Well… no, I didn’t,” Aziraphale admitted.   
  
“Then I _did_ have to do that. What sort of man would I be if I allowed my political partner to eat something that disgusting while I sat idly by and munched away on blueberry scones? A terrible one, I tell you.”   
  
Aziraphale’s response was cut off as breakfast was brought out to him. He carefully took a bite of a blueberry scone, not noticing the soft noise that left his lips nor did he notice the alpha staring at him.

The omega sat in his favorite reading spot in the garden when he heard footsteps approaching. He looked up to see a younger omega, probably the son of a noble that was here to meet with Prince Crowley. He smiled kindly at him, relaxing in the presence of another omega. “Enjoying the garden, my dear?”  
  
The other omega smiled back, blushing slightly, “I noticed you were reading…” The boy had short brown curls and dark skin with warm, honey brown eyes. He was absolutely lovely and had such a beautiful smile to match. Aziraphale relaxed further, sensing that the boy wasn’t dangerous in the slightest.   
  
“Ah, yes. Could you keep that a secret please?” Aziraphale asked him, holding a finger to his own lips.   
  
“Of course!” He told him in a rush “I just- Well… could you tell me what the book is about? My father only lets me read what he deems suitable and well… I don’t believe I’ve ever read a book with lovers on the cover.”   
  
Aziraphale glanced down at the gilded illustration of two lovers, an alpha and omega, on the front of his book. He gave an indulgent smile and shifted on the bench, allowing his new acquaintance a seat. 

“I would love to, my dear,” Aziraphale waited until he was seated before continuing. “Now, this is a story of two lovers, an alpha and omega, who are divided by class-”  
  
Neither were aware of the alpha watching from a window above the garden, a soft smile on his face. Crowley realized two things, then. One, that was the first time he’d ever seen the omega smile and two, he’d do anything to see that smile grace his features again.   
  
  
The blond eyed the box on the table at breakfast warily, feeling far more tense than usual. “What is this?”   
  
“A gift,” The alpha explained, looking nervous for some reason the omega couldn’t fathom “Please, open it.”   
  
Aziraphalegingerly opened the box and eyed the jeweled necklace inside with only mild interest. “What, may I ask, is the occasion?”   
  
Crowley seemed to deflate slightly. “You don’t like it?”   
  
“I didn’t say that,” Aziraphale told him, closing the box. “Thank you for the kind gift,” He recited. These were the words he used for the gifts from commoners and nobles alike on tithe day, but the alpha didn’t have to know that.

Aziraphale stopped short when he entered his bedroom nearly a week later, eyeing the new gowns, petticoats, and corsets scattered throughout the room. “What _happened_ here?”   
  
Anathema peeked from around the door of his wardrobe. “His highness had these tailored for you. He even had a few imported from Hell! Isn’t that exciting!?”   
  
The blond gingerly picked up a deep red gown with a shockingly low neckline. “I don’t understand the gifts. Perhaps he’s grateful that I’m helping him?”   
  
“Or,” Anathema began teasingly “He’s interested in you.”   
  
Aziraphale scoffed at that. “I sincerely doubt that. I’m sure he’s showing his appreciation but the gifts are far too lavish…”   
  
“Maybe he’s generous?” Anathema offered, not hiding her disappointment that her hint at the alpha’s interest was shot down.   
  
Anathema held up a black gown that was completely sheer save for strategic embroidery around where the groin, bottom, and chest would be. “This is a gown made by the most expensive shop in Hell, only royalty can afford that tailor!”   
  
“Oh good lord,” Aziraphale breathed, “Is that for the bedroom?”   
  
“No, it’s a gown. You should wear it. Turn some heads,” Anathema wiggled her eyebrows before putting the gown in his closet.

“I most certainly will _not_ !” Aziraphale huffed, scandalized “I’m going to be in the garden until dinner.”   
  
“Alright, I’ll fetch you when I have all of this put away. Perhaps Newt can join us for tea?”   
  
“That would be lovely,” Aziraphale told her, smiling. His smile dropped when he saw another low-cut gown. “His taste is atrocious.”

It was important to note that while Prince Crowley had paid for and requested the clothing to be made, Anathema had been asked to choose designs suitable for the prince and she had used that power to her full advantage. She had a feeling that Prince Crowley had taken romantic interest in Aziraphale and from her brief meeting with him, she saw enough of his aura to know that he was a good man and would be good to her best friend. If only Aziraphale could open his heart up, just a little...  
  
Anathema burst out laughing, “Don’t worry, there’s plenty you’d be willing to wear.”

“Didn’t you have a book?” A voice spoke up from nearby.  
  
Aziraphale startled from his embroidery, nearly pricking his finger. He glanced around nervously, unsure of how to answer Crowley’s question.   
  
“You did! It was worn and ragged as anything, what happened to it?” Crowley asked him again, his eyes narrowed.   
  
“I gave it away,” Aziraphale told him quietly.   
  
“You what?” 

“I gave it away!” Aziraphale spoke up, flushed and embarrassed, “I’ve read it hundreds of times by now and he had never even read it once so I gave it to him. I told him that one day he’d be able to read as he wished and not to let the world dull his light.” He wrung his hands, “It’s a forbidden book for omegas,” Aziraphale confessed quietly. He was so flustered he didn’t realize he hadn’t elaborated on who _‘he’_ was nor how they came to be acquainted.   
  
The alpha just stared at him, something strange in his gaze. The omega continued, “Do you think I did the wrong thing?” He hoped he was right in his assumption that Crowley wouldn’t agree with Gabriel’s notions on proper reading for omegas.   
  
“Oh, you’re an angel, I don’t think you could possibly do the wrong thing,” Crowley told him, his voice sincere.   
  
Aziraphale stared at him, his blue eyes unnervingly critical until the alpha cleared his throat. “I erm, I was just going to ask if you’d be amenable to joining me on tithe day? I understand it’s a custom here and I’d rather not change customs too soon.”   
  
“I will attend, thank you,” Aziraphale told him, grateful for the change of subject.

They stared at each other for a long moment before Crowley cleared his throat awkwardly and bowed before leaving the omega alone. Aziraphale was beginning to think the alpha was a strange one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're both stupid but what's new?


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Mild slut-shaming and sexism
> 
> Sorry I've been slow on updates! My life's been hectic the past few weeks lol

The White Knight heard the shrill clang of a mace colliding with armor as the wind was knocked out of them and they fell to the ground. The attacker stood before them, an alpha, grinning, as he held up his mace for the final swing. There was a blur of movement and the attacker was replaced with a familiar dark figure, clad in all-black armor, holding his hand out, “Since when is it my job to do the rescuing?”   
  
They accepted the assistance in getting to their feet, thankful that their helmet hadn’t been knocked off. The Black Knight laughed from beside them, “Alright, alright. Don’t speak. I know what you’re thinking anyway.” 

Then, in an overly shrill tone, he continued “Oh, thank you, good sir, for saving this helpless damsel. Come, take me in your strong alpha arms and- oof!” He was cut off by The White Knight playfully shoving him with their shield. The Black Knight burst into guffawing laughter and while he didn’t see it, The White Knight was smiling beneath their helmet in amusement.   
  
The two of them walked in silence for a while after The Black Knight’s laughter had died off. When they returned to their horses, The Black Knight spoke once again “Be careful. You’re strong but no one is strong enough to handle everything on their own. Alright?”   
  
The White Knight tilted their head and watched him go, something warm and forbidden unfurling in their chest as their mind swirled with visions of confessing to him, asking him to take them away from their nightmare of a life...   
  
  
Aziraphale rolled over in bed before sighing and opening his eyes. He had to get out of the palace after tithe day. He had to know if…    
  
He had to know it he still cared. If he was looking for him. If he was alright.   
  
The omega slipped out of bed just as Anathema entered his bedroom to help him with his morning routine “Good morning, dove. Sleep well?”   
  
“Just the usual dreams,” Aziraphale murmured distractedly “I want my gown for the tithing ceremony to be Heaven-made and modest. I don’t want the people to misunderstand my relationship with his highness.”   
  
“Understood. You have a lovely blue one that would be perfect. It’s one of your gifts from his highness.”   


“That would suffice,” He mumbled again, losing himself to his own thoughts.   
  
“Dove?”   
  
“Yes, my dear?” Aziraphale snapped out of his daze and looked at her expectantly.   
  
“I can tell you’re worried about him but,” She glanced at the door and lowered her tone, making sure she wouldn’t be overheard, “The Black Knight has been active in the past few weeks. He’s alive and well.”   
  
The omega smiled softly then, relaxing. “Oh? I’m glad then.”

She gave him a sad smile, saying, “I know that you hold him in high regard…”   
  
“I know I can never have him,” Aziraphale cut her off, his face going back to his usual stoic expression, “It’s my curse as the omega prince to never have my wishes granted.”   


Aziraphale was announced as he entered the throne room. Members of the court lined the walls, their servants standing behind them and holding lavish gifts. He held his shoulders back and head high as he strode through the room as if he was the king, rather than a dethroned prince. He learned a long time ago not to show the court any hint of weakness, especially as an omega.    
  
Prince Crowley stood as he entered and held his hand out for Aziraphale to take before leading him to sit at the Queen’s throne. Aziraphale noticed how warm and calloused Crowley’s hands were, undoubtedly from years of fighting with a sword and not wearing proper gloves for it. Even still, Aziraphale’s omega instincts preened at being touched by a powerful alpha. He fought down his urge to bare his neck and sat gracefully, barely acknowledging the alpha aside from a clipped, “Thank you.”   


Tithe day went on with its usual fair. First came the members of the court, stepping forward one at a time and showering the regent with insincere praises as their servants presented the gifts with a low bow. Crowley began to look bored after a while, even going so far as to slouch in his throne with one leg swung over the arm and his elbow resting on the other as he leaned his chin on his fist. Aziraphale remained ramrod straight in his chair, pointedly ignoring the strange looks he got from the members of the court for sitting in the Queen’s throne, though he knew they could say nothing in fear of risking wrath from their new ruler.

Next came the nobility. It was a rather calm affair until an alpha, a knight by the name of Sir Geoffrey, eyed Aziraphale with barely concealed lust before speaking up, “I see you’ve managed to tame our lovely prince, your highness.”   
  
Crowley eyed him, looking bored. He commanded, “Elaborate on that.”   
  
The alpha, who had clearly expected a different reaction, fumbled for words, “W-Well you see, he’s well known for being frigid, for an omega,” He glanced at Aziraphale then back to Crowley, “I just assumed you’d fixed him.”   
  
Crowley sat up straight then, his eyes hardened, “Fixed him?”   
  
The alpha seemed to be regretting his words but knew he had to respond to someone of much higher rank, “Yes, sir. In the best way, of course. His highness has kept himself pure for-”   
  
“I see,” Crowley cut him off, his voice as sharp as a dagger. “So you believe that an omega’s worth is based on a social construct as ridiculous as chastity?” He glared at the alpha but his lips curled into a smirk when no response came. “The answer to that is yes. Yes, you do believe it to be so. Quite ridiculous to apply to only omegas and women, innit? I’m hardly a virgin but if I told you to eat shit, you’d do it. Why? Because I’m an alpha of higher rank who can undoubtedly defeat you in a hand to hand battle.” He gestured at Aziraphale “His highness and I have a mutual understanding based solely on politics and he is a higher rank than you, despite his gender as an omega, and can, therefore, inflict your punishment for disrespecting him, my political partner.”    
  
He turned to Aziraphale, then, “What would you want to be done?”

Aziraphale, surprising even himself, giggled. “I just want his rank stripped. He’s been vying for my hand in every tournament for the last five years. I knew he had the gall, but I hardly imagined he’d be obtuse enough to say what he thought of me out loud.”   
  
Geoffrey’s face colored in rage, “If I said what I thought of you out loud, I’d have said that you are faking your chastity because the whole kingdom knows that an alpha took it a long time ago.” He looked to Crowley, clearly hoping that the alpha would turn on the omega next to him.

Crowley ignored him, looking intently at Aziraphale “Just his rank?”   
  
“Just his rank,” Aziraphale confirmed before turning to the alpha and smirking slightly. “I’m afraid you’ve been misinformed. A pity, I loved seeing you lose every year.”   
  
Crowley waved over the guards for the former knight to be escorted out before he chuckled dryly, resuming his slouching, “If there’s one thing you can count on amongst both men and alphas, it’s their audacity.”   
  
“Silly thing for you to say, your highness. You’re both.” Aziraphale quipped, not looking at him as he watched the doors to the throne room close. “I assumed this would happen when you led me to the Queen’s throne.”

Crowley scoffed, looking amused. “Well, I would hardly make you stand. Besides, it feels right for you to sit there,” He colored as he realized what he’d said,“I mean because it would be strange to have an empty seat.”

“Of course,” Aziraphale mused, mostly to himself.   
  
Nothing of note happened for a while until a couple by the names of Arthur and Deidre Young were announced and approached the throne with their two children. An older girl and a small golden-haired baby who had just begun to cry. The mother paled, accustomed to Gabriel’s hatred for ‘disruptive noises.’   
  
Aziraphale stood from his throne and approached her, holding out his arms. “May I?”   
  
Deirdre hesitantly passed him the baby, looking relieved as the omega made a cooing noise at them. “What lovely children you have. Their names?”   
  
“Sarah is my oldest and the baby you’re holding is our little Adam,” Deidre told him, proud of her children being complimented by royalty.   
  
Adam had begun to quiet down and Aziraphale gave Deidre a small smile. “May I hold him while your husband speaks with his highness?”   
  
“You don’t have to ask permission, your highness,” Deidre enthused.   
  
He smiled in thanks before taking a seat on his throne and making a few more cooing noises at the baby in his arms. He didn’t notice the alpha was staring at him until a member of the court loudly cleared his throat. “Sire? I believe Mr. Young has been trying to speak with you regarding his tithe.”   
  
Aziraphale turned to the alpha in time to see him quickly look away, “Yes, erm, Mr. Young?”   
  
“My wife and I would like to present you with this tapestry. She spent a month-”   
  
Crowley sat up straight, clearly interested, “A tapestry?”   
  
Arthur looked nervous as he unfurled the tapestry “I apologize, sire, that it’s not much but-”   
  
“Bloody brilliant!” Crowley interrupted, grinning before turning to Deidre, “You made this?”   
  
“Yes, your highness.”   
  
“May I commission you to make more?” He asked her, grinning at her gobsmacked expression, “I can pay you handsomely.”   
  
“Of course! It would be an honor!” She enthused, bowing.

Crowley waved over a member of the court. “Please work out the details of the commission with The Youngs, and I will handle their payments myself.”   
  
Aziraphale stood to return the now sleeping baby to his mother. “Thank you for letting me hold him. I’m glad for you that his highness liked your work.”   
  
Deidre gave him a conspiratory smile. “He was looking at you. With the baby.” She giggled at Aziraphale’s light blush but continued, her tone lowering, “If I may, your highness… I always wanted to see you on that throne. You’re so kind and fair while your siblings were monsters. If you support our new regent, I support him as well. He seems to be a kind man.”   
  
Aziraphale remembered his role then, as Crowley’s supporter, but he was sincere when he answered, “Yes, he is very kind. I believe he wants what is best for my people and I’m appreciative of his efforts.”   
  
Deidre gave him another warm smile before following after her husband.   
  
Crowley stood then, “I do believe they were the last of the day. Best ones too.”   
  
Aziraphale nodded, noting that the court had filed out of the room, leaving them alone. “The people seemed to like you. Not bad for a new regent.”   
  
“You think so?” Crowley mused, smiling, “It’s a shame you don’t seem to.”   
  
Aziraphale arched his brow, “Are you attempting to flirt with me?”   
  
“No, I’m attempting to befriend you,” Crowley corrected, tilting his head. “Why? Did you wish for me to flirt?”   
  
“Hardly,” Aziraphale scoffed.   
  
Crowley grinned at that. “Of course not,”   
  
They stood in silence for a moment before Aziraphale broke it. “You’re not going to ask me about the alpha Sir Geoffrey had mentioned?”   
  
“Not my business, angel,” Crowley shrugged, apparently not noticing the pet name that had slipped through.   
  
Aziraphale nodded, still not understanding what Crowley’s motives were for being so kind to him and treating him as an equal. “I see. I suppose we’ll see one another at dinner?”   
  
Crowley grimaced, saying, “Yes but I’ll miss it just being the two of us. Why does the court have to attend, again?”   
  
“To show your interest in building bridges with them,” Aziraphale reminded him, fighting back a smile at Crowley’s pout. “You’ll survive, I assure you.”   


Aziraphale took the longer route back to his room to clear his head after all the events during tithe day. Between the incident with Sir Geoffrey and his rare opportunity to hold a little one in his arms, it was a lot to take in. Then, there was the issue with Crowley. 

The alpha was handsome, albeit a bit eccentric, but he was getting to him. Aziraphale felt he had been too comfortable lately. Too soft. It was only a matter of time before Crowley dropped the act and showed his true colors.    
  
He stopped short as he heard voices echoing from an unused wing of the castle. He approached to listen.   
  
Lord Masci was speaking, he’d recognize that nasally voice anywhere after dealing with it most of his life. “I fear The Regent is too soft on the boy. One can only allow so much from an omega before they get the silly idea that they can speak over an alpha.”   
  
“Perhaps he’s soft on him because of his omega status?” Another voice, Lord Hugh, spoke up, “Rumor has it, he went to the prince while he was in heat after conquering the castle. Perhaps the omega was his prize?”    
  
Aziraphale shuddered at the laughter that followed his suggestion. He braced himself and squared his shoulders before walking past them, ensuring that they knew he had heard what they said.    
  
He made it to his room and ignored Sir Savaric calling to him and asking if he was alright as he closed the door a bit too harshly before leaning heavily against it, shaking.    
  
Of course. Of course the court assumed he was sleeping with Prince Crowley to keep his status. He could hardly blame them for… no. No, he could blame them. He’d grown up around these men, and they found the idea of an alpha taking him while he couldn’t consent  _ funny _ ! He angrily rubbed at his eyes before tears could spill over and stood up, taking a deep breath.   
  
Fine. If they wanted to insist on spreading their rumors, Aziraphale was no longer going to cater to their wishes.    
  
Anathema poked her head in, looking concerned. “Sir Savaric and Sir Gilbert were concerned for you. They said you looked angry.”   
  
“I am. For dinner tonight I’m going to wear one of the Hell-made gowns. Find the one with the darkest color and lowest neckline.”   
  
Anathema blinked at him, confused, but moved to do as he requested “Anything else?”   
  
“I want to wear makeup, and I do believe I have a ruby set if it’ll match my dress?”   
  
She pulled a black gown out of the wardrobe and smirked. “I’ve been waiting to be allowed to do this. Why? May I ask? Are we finally standing up to the court?”   
  
“Better. I’m going to dismantle the court entirely.” Aziraphale told her, determined.

Aziraphale took a deep breath before the door to the dining room opened before him. He stepped through, feeling every eye in the room turn to him in his black gown with a plunging neckline. He looked at Prince Crowley, who was staring at him with his mouth slightly open. The alpha didn’t take his eyes off him until he was close to his seat. Then, he sprang into action and stood to pull out his chair, “You look- Oh, you don’t like that. Sorry.”    
  
The alpha sat down and determinedly stared at his wine goblet. Aziraphale eyed him, before finally deciding to end his misery. “You can say it.” Perhaps, a small part of him wanted to hear it, loathe as he was to admit it.

The alpha stared back and they locked eyes for several long moments before he spoke, “You look beautiful.”   
  
“Thank you, sir,” Aziraphale said, turning to his soup and casually picking up his spoon as he continued “I wish to speak with you.”   
  
“Of course,” Crowley told him immediately “Do you wish to speak to me now or later?”   
  
“Later, privately please.”   
  
Lord Hugh, who was sitting across from him, stiffened slightly. Clearly eavesdropping.   
  
Aziraphale took a sip of his wine and smirked over the rim at him, catching his eye. He could see the fear in Lord Hugh’s eyes and relished in it. All he had to do was convince Crowley they should be done away with…   
  
  
Crowley glanced at the doors to his office, his hand still on the handle. “Should I leave the door open?”   
  
Aziraphale sat in the chair across from his desk and arched his brow. “I’m not afraid of you, if that’s why you think the door should be open.”   
  
“Well, I was mostly thinking of the two of us being alone this late and-”   
  
“The council already believes we’ve been sleeping together so it’s a moot point,” Aziraphale told him, rolling his eyes “Just close the door. I don’t want any eavesdropping.”

The alpha closed the door, apparently not offended by Aziraphale’s bossy tone, before moving to his chair and sitting down. “So?”   
  
“It’s about the council. I overheard them speaking ill of the two of us… especially me.” He realized how whiny he sounded as he said it and felt his plans come to a halt. There was no way Crowley would take him seriously if-   
  
“Who was it and what did they say?” Crowley asked him, interrupting his thoughts, as he reached for a feather quill and dipped it into an ink well.   
  
“You’ll… handle it?”   
  
“Of course,” Crowley responded, looking slightly offended as if it shouldn’t have even been asked.    
  
“Lord Hugh and Lord Masci.”   
  
“Ugh, yeah, weasley bastards, aren’t they?” Crowley asked rhetorically, frowning, “What did they say?”   
  
“They were musing about how you keep me so complacent and… well they implied that we…” He trailed off, blushing, “Mated. While I was in heat.”   
  
Crowley blinked at him, taken off guard by the blush. “Y-Ngk. Alright. I’ll handle it. What action do you want taken?”   
  
“Well, I always felt that the council had too much power over the people…”   
  
“You’d like to get rid of it entirely?” Crowley asked him, eyeing him steadily. “If I were to dismantle the council now, it would read to your people that I’m a tyrannical monster, hellbent on destroying tradition.”   
  
Aziraphale frowned, processing “Oh… I see.”   
  
“However, if I do it slowly, root out the bad men and replace them with more trustworthy subjects, perhaps some diverse backgrounds… maybe I could make it work. Would a reformation of the council rather than a complete dismantlement work for you?”   
  
“Why are you asking me? You’re in charge?” Aziraphale asked him quietly.   
  
“Because I care what you think. You’re not my mate but you are my partner in all this. I can’t do this without you, remember?”   
  
“You seem capable of that on your own,” Aziraphale told him. “Your idea does sound rather appealing, your highness.”   
  
“Crowley. You’ve no need for a title with me.”   
  
“Alright, Crowley,” Aziraphale tested the lack of a title as he held his hand across the desk for the alpha to shake. “I believe I owe you thanks.”   


Crowley took it, grinning. “Don’t thank me. Though I am glad to see that you’re growing more comfortable with our little arrangement.” Aziraphale noticed, against his better judgement, that Crowley had a charismatic smile. The sort that pulled one in and made them forget what was happening in reality… just like he was doing at the moment as their hands stayed intertwined much longer than what was actually necessary. 

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and pulled his hand away, though every instinct was screaming for him to keep holding on to the alpha’s hand, “Oh, hush.”   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The duality of Aziraphale being both secretly baby and a bad bitch is so fun to write haha 
> 
> So, the ice is thawing between the two of them and we got some homoerotic hand holding... I wonder what's next :) lol 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed and thank you for reading!!! <3 Be sure to leave comments and kudos because I absolutely live for them between updates haha


	5. Chapter Five

  
Aziraphale patted his horse, Conrad, on the forehead while treating him with an apple slice. “Awe, dear boy, it’s been a while hasn’t it?”   


Anathema cooed at the stallion before moving to allow the stable boy to ready the horse. “Don’t fret over it, dove. I’ve been making sure he has been getting enough attention and exercise.”   
  
“I know but…” He trailed off as Prince Crowley entered the stable, followed by Savaric. 

The prince turned to him and said, “Good morning, Aziraphale. I’ve been given word that you were going out for a ride and I was just going to send Savaric to watch over you.”   
  
Aziraphale huffed, “I hardly need protection for a picnic with my friends.”   
  
Crowley seemed to notice Anathema’s presence and grinned at her. “Anathema, you’re doing well, I hope?”   
  
“Yes, sire,” Anathema answered, grinning back.   
  
Aziraphale made a mental note to ask his friend when she and Crowley got to be on such good terms but first… well, first he needed to deal with the issue of having an audience. A picnic wasn’t his only goal today.   
  
“Crowley, you needn’t waste your men on me. It’s just a picnic and we’ll be in the forest near the castle.”   
  
“It’s not a waste if it’s for your protection. Between banishing the royal family and stripping several powerful men of their ranks, I fear for you leaving without protection,” Crowley told him, stepping closer before lowering his voice. “Please? To put my mind at ease?” 

The two of them locked eyes, not noticing their companions exchanging deadpan looks before leaving them alone.

Conrad chose that moment to snort and then bump his head against Crowley as if they were already acquainted. Crowley laughed and then trailed off, staring at the horse. “Is… is this your horse?”   
  
“Yes, I’ve had him since I was a small child,” Aziraphale told him proudly. “He’s beautiful, is he not?”   
  
“Yes, I’ve seen a stallion quite similar to him before,” Crowley laughed as Conrad bumped him again and Aziraphale handed him an apple slice to appease the horse.   
  
“It’s strange… he doesn’t normally take to strangers this easily,” Aziraphale observed, furrowing his brows.

“Well I’d hardly call me a stranger,” Crowley laughed, gesturing at a black mare a few rows down. “I’ve been keeping Nightmare in here-”   
  
“You named your horse ‘Nightmare?’” Aziraphale interrupted, his lips twitching to fight back a laugh.   
  
“Say what you will. It won’t make it any less clever,” Crowley told him, blushing slightly.    
  
Aziraphale noticed they had subconsciously stepped closer together, sharing each other’s space. He took a subtle step back, hoping the alpha wouldn’t notice. He didn’t.

Crowley smiled wryly “I know you hate people protecting you but please allow Savaric to accompany you? On my honor, I would never suggest someone protect you if I didn’t trust them completely. He’s a good man.” Then the alpha had the audacity to make puppy-dog eyes at him. As if that would work.   
  
“I suppose if you insist,” Aziraphale responded without thinking. He kicked himself mentally but then began to run through ways he can get out of Savaric’s line of sight for at least an hour or so.

“Thank you, angel, for putting my mind at ease,” Crowley told him, grinning before backing away and heading toward the door. Aziraphale grabbed Conrad’s reigns and followed after.   
  
The alpha was already speaking to Newt, who had opted to wait for Aziraphale and Anathema outside. “Oh, you’re Anathema’s husband! I’ve heard so much about you… mostly due to a misunderstanding but it was sorted.” 

Crowley shook his hand and turned to Savaric. “Eyes on him at all times. If you see any sort of danger, you’re to grab him and retreat immediately.”

Newt gave Aziraphale a deadpan look while out of the two alpha’s line of sight. Aziraphale bit his lip to stifle a giggle as Anathema gave him a warning look. This trip should be interesting.   


Aziraphale knew this path by heart. Up ahead there was a fork in the road. The right would lead him to where he and his friends frequented to picnic and left would lead him toward the border… where he could find some answers. He trotted his horse alongside Savaric’s, “Lovely horse.”   
  
“Oh, thank you!” Savaric gushed, blushing slightly. “Gilbert gifted her to me shortly after we married. She’s a rare breed.” Rare indeed, Aziraphale silently agreed, the horse was gorgeous.    
  
“How fast is she?” Aziraphale asked, feigning casual politeness. He needed to get out of sight soon. The turn was coming up.

“Oh, she’s built for durability rather than speed-”   
  
“Good to know,” He interrupted, snapping his reigns and urging his horse to a full gallop.   
  
Savaric moved to follow and reeled back when Newt’s horse stepped in front of his, blocking his path. “Sorry! Horses hate listening to me.”   
  
The knight could only watch in shock and confusion as the prince disappeared into the trees.   


Aziraphale loosened a brick in the abandoned house, and quickly picked up the notes inside and read over the first.

_ Hell wants their war. They’ll attack Heaven’s capital from the south in less than a week. Meet me at our southern border rendezvous. _ _   
_ __

_ \- A _   
  


He traced a finger over the initial longingly, the only information he really knew about The Black Knight aside from his gender.   
  
He opened the next note.   


  
_ Hell succeeded in their invasion. Where were you? I’m not angry, I just want to be sure you’re alright… _ _   
_ _   
_ _ \- A _   
  


His face twisted into a bittersweet smile as he opened the third note.   
  


_ I may be busy for a while… things have come up. I’m worried about you. Please let me know you’re alright. _ _   
  
_

_ \- A _

He reached into his satchel and pulled out a quill and paper before pulling out his inkwell and uncapping it.   
  


_ I apologize, life has been busy for me and I’m being watched nearly constantly. I’m sorry I let you down, that I let Heaven and Hell down. There are so many things I wanted to tell you… that I still want to tell you, that I never can. I hope you are well and I wish you the best of happiness but unfortunately, I feel I have no choice but to retire The White Knight indefinitely. Stay safe, please.  _

_ “I love not to be constrained to love; for love must arise of the heart, and not by no constraint.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ \- With regret, A.Z _ _   
_   


He blinked back tears as he folded the note and hid it securely behind the brick. He had sealed his fate.

Conrad approached him as he left the house, making a distressed noise. He rubbed his muzzle soothingly “How’d you get untied, dear boy?”   
  
“I assumed he was smart and would lead me to you,” A familiar voice spoke up from nearby.   
  
Aziraphale felt a rush of trepidation as he turned to face the owner of the voice. With him alone and unarmed… this was most certainly not an ideal situation.   
  
“Hello little brother,” Michael greeted him, her face polite and indifferent but her eyes cold. “I’ve been meaning to have a chat with you.”   


Savaric was finishing his fourth flower crown when he cast a worried glance towards the forest. “His highness is going to have my head on a pike.”   
  
“Oh calm down,” Anathema sighed, passing him a sandwich. “Aziraphale likes his privacy. He’ll be back in less than an hour and Prince Crowley will never know a thing.”   
  
Newt spoke up then, “Well unless any of us tell him. Which we won’t.” He added the last bit a tad mutinously.   
  
Savaric looked even more distressed as he moved to stand. “I need to find him.”   


Anathema sighed, watching the knight walk toward his horse “Our Aziraphale never was one for tact, was he?”   
  
Her husband nodded in agreement, reaching over to place a flower crown in her hair “Our Aziraphale? Never.”   


Aziraphale eyed Michael warily, making sure to keep distance between the two of them “A chat? Funny, I’ve been wanting a chat with you as well.”

Michael tilted her head, feigning cold politeness “Oh?”   
  
“Well, not so much of a chat as it’s me sinking a blade into your throat,” Aziraphale told her coldly, taking a slow step towards Conrad. He had a dagger in a bag strapped to his saddle. If he could get to it…   
  
Michael laughed a sharp and ragged sound. “You? Kill me? Oh, little omega… I see being mounted by an alpha did nothing to break that rebellious spirit in you.”   
  
He said nothing as he took another step towards Conrad.   
  
Her smile turned from cruel to coy. “You’ve been a bit of a fallen angel, haven’t you? Consorting with our enemy… however, we do believe in forgiveness. At a price, of course. You’ll just have to do us one little favor.”   
  
Aziraphale made it to his satchel and eyed her warily. “You laugh at the fate our brother sold me to, and then have the audacity to expect me to want your forgiveness? As if your love is a sort of grace rather than a curse.”   
  
“You know I hate when you speak like that.” Michael rolled her eyes, “Are you implying to me that you choose him?”   
  
“I’ve been giving it a lot of thought, actually,” He flicked one hand to distract her from the hand that swiftly moved into the satchel and pulled out a dagger. He stepped toward her. “I’ll give you two choices because you know how we  _ rebellious _ omegas love choices,” He regarded her coldly as he pulled the dagger from where he’d hidden it behind his skirt. “You either die here or return to Gabriel with a message from me. Your choice.”   
  
Michael laughed, though she eyed the dagger warily. “You’d kill me, little brother?”   
  
“You stood by while Gabriel traded my body for your freedom. I’d kill the three of you without hesitation,” He watched fear creep into her expression as his glare held steady. “Choose now.”   
  
“I’ve heard enough.”

They both turned to see Millicent standing nearby, casually leaning against a tree and eating an apple. “Back away from the boy and I’ll allow you to live.” 

She was wearing a loose black shirt that looked remarkably similar to one of Crowley’s, unbuttoned down to her navel, and tucked into some black leather trousers. Aside from her black cape adorned with feathers, she wore no other armor. An odd choice but one Aziraphale would assume was made for the sake of stealth.   
  
Michael paled considerably, apparently having fought Millicent before during the invasion of Heaven. Clearly, she wasn’t ready for another round as she spoke in a shaken tone. “This isn’t over.”   
  
Millicent smirked before biting the apple, reaching down with her free hand to tap the crossbow slung on her hip. “Oh, I do believe it is. My master takes Prince Aziraphale’s safety quite seriously and I think it would be in your best interest not to piss him off. He has a terrible temper.”   
  
The alpha gave Aziraphale one final glare before turning on her heel and disappearing into the trees.   
  
Aziraphale whirled on the other omega, his hackles rising. “Just what are you doing here!?”   
  
She quirked one arched eyebrow. “Isn’t it obvious? Protecting you.”   
  
“I don’t need protection,” He huffed, crossing his arms “Isn’t Savaric the one who was supposed to be protecting me?”   
  
“Savaric is a gullible little thing and Crowley knows it,” She smirked before continuing, every word sending a shard of ice into his heart. “You’re right, however. The White Knight hardly would need assistance from little ole me.”   
  
He schooled his expression as he spoke, concealing his panic. “I don’t know what you mean.” He hoped she was joking, or guessing and trying to draw out a reaction. It wasn’t happening. He’d kept this secret for over half a decade and he’d be damned if he gave it up now.

She rolled her eyes “You  _ do _ actually know what I mean. Prince Crowley is an alpha of high ranking who is known for being brilliant-minded and cunning. There are many who would seek to harm him so I make it my business to know everything.”   
  
“The White Knight-”   
  
Millicent cut him off, her tone was casual as if she listed. “The White Knight is shorter than the average alpha, indicating that they were most likely either beta or omega. The White Knight was never active the last week of every third month. Patterned absences represent a patterned occurrence, such as a heat. This led me to believe The White Knight was an omega. They never spoke, even to those they trusted such as The Black Knight, indicating that they had something to hide. Most omegas don’t have access to that fine of horse and the master-smithed armor and weapons that The White Knight decorated himself with. Most omegas wouldn’t have anything so important to hide they couldn’t speak. I knew from that point that you were an omega nobility or a royal.” She gave him a wry look “It was confirmed when your heat lined up with their absence and your blatant interest in The Black Knight.”   
  
Aziraphale stared at her, shaking, “are you-”   
  
“Going to tell anyone? No. Your secret is safe with me, assuming you aren’t a threat.”   
  
“A threat?” A threat to who?   
  
“If I get any indication that you would hurt Prince Crowley, I won’t hesitate to kill you,” She told him casually, shrugging. “I understand you despise alphas, but if you can trust The Black Knight, you can trust Prince Crowley.”   
  
He steeled himself, trying to regain his composure. “I’ve no intention of harming Crowley, but trust is earned.”

She smirked before pushing away from the tree and tossing her apple core. “Come, let’s get back to the others.”   
  
“Are you going to tell Crowley about my sister?”    
  
“Yes, but we can leave out a few details,” She told him carefully.   
  
  
They were halfway to where Anathema, Newt, and Savaric were supposed to be picnicking when they ran into a distressed Savaric. He visibly sagged in relief at the sight of them. “I was getting worried!”   
  
Millicent rolled her eyes “Oh do calm down. He just got a bit lost. Now let’s not waste his highness’ time and let him enjoy his picnic.”   
  
Savaric perked up at that, causing Millicent to roll her eyes. “Oh yeah! I made all of us flower crowns!”   
  
“Of course you did,” She snorted, trotting her horse alongside his.    
  
  
Aziraphale was almost to his room when Sir Gilbert approached him. “Your highness, Prince Crowley has requested a private dinner with you to speak with you on an important matter.”   
  
“Inform his highness that I accept the invitation,” He replied evenly. He watched as Sir Gilbert bowed politely before taking his leave.   


Aziraphale took a calming breath, hoping his secret was still safe, as he pushed open the doors of his bedroom and stepped inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I oop-
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed! Thank you so much for reading <3 <3 <3


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I don't know if you've noticed but I added some tags that I forgot to add at the beginning of the fic! I apologize for my oversight!
> 
> Aziraphale **technically has a vulva in this fic so I tagged it as such but it's not quite a vulva because in addition to his omega hormones he still has testosterone so I'm being intentionally vague regarding his genitalia. 
> 
> As far as character death tags being added, don't freak out please haha Some are OC deaths and some are bad guys so I don't think it'll be /too/ angsty for all of you hehe
> 
> I apologize again for the oversight and thank you for reading!

Aziraphale chose a modest yellow gown for the evening, and then eyed Anathema suspiciously in the reflection of his mirror as she went about his room with a small smirk on her face. He decided to speak up. 

“Anathema, is something the matter?”   
  
Anathema schooled her expression before he turned around, not knowing he could see her in the mirror. “No, why?”   
  
“Nevermind then,” Aziraphale sighed, deciding to leave it for a later time, “I have a private dinner with Prince Crowley this evening.”    
  
“Oh?” Anathema asked, her face carefully neutral. “I wonder what it’s about?” She asked entirely too casually.   
  
Aziraphale narrowed his eyes. “My dear, is there something you’d like to tell me?”   
  
“Not particularly, no,” Anathema responded, her expression neutral.   
  
The prince rolled his eyes and stood up, “Very well then. I suppose I shall see you later tonight.”   
  
“Have a nice dinner!” Anathema grinned and winked before taking her leave.   
  
She was hiding something, for sure.   
  
  
Aziraphale had nearly made it to the dining room when Crowley intercepted him in the hallway. The alpha held out his arm to escort him as he spoke, “We’re eating elsewhere tonight.”   
  
“Where?” The omega asked, tentatively accepting the arm and falling into step with the regent.    
  
Crowley’s lips twitched as he replied, “You’ll see.”   
  
“Oh my, it seems that both you and my dearest friend are keeping secrets from me this evening,” Aziraphale mused aloud.   
  
“Is she?” Crowley asked him, lifting a brow in such a way that plainly revealed the secrets were mutually kept. “Odd we’re both keeping secrets.”   
  
“Odd indeed,” Aziraphale pretended to muse, raising his brows at the other man.   
  
Crowley laughed and Aziraphale fought back his own smile. It wouldn’t do to let an alpha know he was flirting. Which he wasn’t, in fact, flirting, thank you very much.   
  
When at last they reached their destination, Crowley paused at an ornate mahogany door, looking nervous suddenly. He turned to Aziraphale. “Close your eyes? Please?”   
  
“If I close my eyes, how will I see my dinner?” Aziraphale quipped.   
  
“Please?” Crowley wheedled, mock pouting at him. 

There it was again. As if that would ever work on Aziraphale. He was made of stronger stuff than that and an alpha pouting at him was not going to make him bend to their will, not in the least. So what if he was distractingly handsome, had a wicked smile, and lovely eyes? Aziraphale set his jaw, prepared to tell him that no, he was not comfortable shutting his eyes and being led around like they were small children playing a game.   
  
“Fine, but I expect the  _ best _ wine tonight,” Aziraphale told him, closing his eyes and mentally cursing himself for his moment of weakness. He allowed the alpha to lead him into the room and for the door to shut behind the two of them.   
  
When Crowley spoke, it was from in front of him “Hold out your hand, angel.”   
  
Aziraphale complied and scrunched his brows in confusion as he felt a scroll of paper be placed in his hand.   
  
“You can open your eyes now,” Crowley told him gently. 

Aziraphale hesitantly opened his eyes, looking at the scroll first. “Why did you…” 

He trailed off as he looked around him. He was in a library… that wasn’t there before. Aziraphale specifically remembered this room to be an old meeting room. The once-bare walls now were covered in floor-to-ceiling dark mahogany bookshelves, mostly full of books. There were so many, and Aziraphale marveled at the thought of being able to read freely, to be able to lose himself for hours on end. Maybe if he asked Crowley…   
  
He cleared his throat and dragged his eyes away from the bookshelves and back to the scroll as he opened it. He read it over, then one more time, not believing what he was reading “You repealed… the omega book ban?”   
  
Crowley grinned, “Surprise?”   
  
Aziraphale felt his face split into a small smile “Oh- Oh thank you. This will make omegas across the kingdom so happy, myself included.” He glanced around, eyeing the books again. “Does this mean I’m allowed to read the books in here?”   
  
“I would hardly have to give you permission to read your own books, angel. This library is meant for you,” Crowley told him, a casual lilt to his voice as if he hadn’t given Aziraphale an entire library of books and gorgeous furniture.

Then, reality hit him. There was a catch. There was always a catch with alphas. He felt his smile fall. 

“What must I do?” Aziraphale asked him, turning away and pretending to inspect a shelf. He couldn’t let Crowley see weakness. Not now, not ever.   
  
“Read, obviously?” Crowley answered in the tone of a question.   
  
Aziraphale whirled on him, anger rising. “You don’t have to pretend. What do you want?”   
  
Crowley’s jaw tensed as he eyed the omega across from him. Eventually, he let out a breath and held up his hands placatingly. “You caught me. I did want something.”   
  
“What?”   
  
“Smile,” Crowley replied, his face serious.   
  
“Are you mad?” Aziraphale asked, disbelieving.   
  
“No? Just smile.” Crowley’s lips twitched as if he was fighting a laugh.   
  
Aziraphale glared at him. “You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”   
  
“Just a little,” Crowley admitted, smirking. “Not everything is a trick.”   
  
“With alphas, there is always a trick,” Aziraphale told him quietly.

“So you don’t trust Anathema?” Crowley asked him, eyebrows raised. He nodded to himself when Aziraphale didn’t answer. “I suppose you do. Not all alphas are sexist prats.”    


Aziraphale felt shame color his face as he softly asked, “So I don’t have to do anything?”   
  
“No, it’s a  _ gift _ ,” Crowley assured.    
  
Aziraphale didn’t respond as he began exploring the room, unsure of what to say. He ran his hand along the back of a chair as he finally found his words. “I apologize for my assumptions. I assumed you would demand that I marry you or something just as horrid.”   
  
Crowley seemed to visibly deflate in his peripheral “Marrying me would be horrid?”   
  
“No, marrying  _ me _ would be horrid,” Aziraphale told him honestly, pausing in his walk around the room to look at Crowley directly. The alpha was standing in the same spot, a strange look on his face as if he was solving a puzzle. Crowley’s gaze softened when they locked eyes and Aziraphale quickly looked away, blushing.   
  
“I wouldn’t say that,” Crowley responded, his voice honest, “I think anyone that marries you would be a lucky bastard.”   
  
Aziraphale laughed out loud at that, “I disagree. You don’t know me well enough, which is why you think that.”   
  
“Then let me,” Crowley pleaded, stepping forward until they were standing close together. He gently grabbed Aziraphale’s hands and enclosed them in his own. “Let me know you.”   
  
Aziraphale couldn’t tell if his blush was because of the words, proximity, or physical contact but it was there all the same. He quickly snatched his hands away, just to be on the safe side, before backing up. “Why? You won’t even let me know you.”   
  
Crowley blinked at him, his mouth opening and closing several times before he sputtered out an offended, “excuse me?”   
  
“You smile too much around me,” Aziraphale pointed out, irritated, “I dislike dishonest emotions. If you’re annoyed or angry, you can show it.”   
  
“I didn’t want you to be frightened of me anymore,” Crowley told him, frowning.

Aziraphale suppressed the urge to roll his eyes as he responded. “I’m not frightened of you. I don’t get frightened easily, but I do dislike being treated as if I’m made of porcelain and my feelings can be wounded at any given moment.”   
  
Crowley was quiet for a long time after that, seemingly thinking over his words carefully before he spoke. “I think,” he began carefully, tilting his head, “that we’ve had a grievous misunderstanding.”   
  
“It would seem so,” Aziraphale agreed haughtily.

“May I suggest another clause for our arrangement contract that doesn’t actually exist?” Crowley asked Aziraphale while, strangely enough, walking in a semi-circle around him.

Aziraphale turned to face him, eyebrows raised. “You may.”   
  
“We get to know each other.”    
  
Another laugh bubbled out of Aziraphale as he shook his head “Why on earth would you want that? It sounds mortifying.”   
  
“You interest me,” Crowley told him simply, shrugging.   
  
“Was it my open disdain for you or my giving you the cold shoulder?” Aziraphale asked him sarcastically.   
  
“It was the knife, actually,” Crowley told him, winking.   
  
Aziraphale smiled, genuinely. “You’re absurd… but I agree to your new clause.”   


Crowley made a sweeping gesture towards the doors to the balcony. “Perhaps we can discuss it over our dinner that is probably either cold or in danger of being stolen by birds?”   
  
“Serves you right for putting it out there,” Aziraphale rolled his eyes and stepped past him. The sound of Crowley’s laughter trailed behind him as they stepped out onto the balcony.   
  


Crowley had clearly been serious about the whole ‘getting to know one another’ thing. They’d talked late into the knight, sharing several bottles of wine, and talking about the most bizarre subject matters. Crowley turned out to be quite eccentric and seemed to be all over the place but Aziraphale found it charming in a strange way. His eccentric charm showed itself again the next morning at breakfast.   


“What’s your favorite color?” Crowley asked him, forgoing a greeting as he sat at the breakfast table across from Aziraphale.   
  
Aziraphale eyed him judgmentally over his scone “Goodmorning, Crowley.”   
  
“Mine’s black,” Crowley grinned, clearly attempting to annoy the other prince.   
  
Aziraphale rolled his eyes, deciding to give in. It was easier when he did. “I don’t particularly have one, though I tend to prefer pastels. I do, however, have a favorite pattern.”   
  
“Which is…?” Crowley pushed.   
  
“Tartan,” Aziraphale told him. He grew indignant at Crowley’s bark of laughter. “Tartan is stylish!”

“Whatever you say, angel,” Crowley chuckled before digging into his breakfast.   


“It’s better than black,” Aziraphale huffed. “It’s such a dreadful, mournful color.”   
  
“I am mourning,” Crowley told him seriously, “I’m mourning the death of my patience. Hurry and eat. We have a lot to do today.”   
  
“I regret telling you to be yourself,” Aziraphale told him without heat.   
  
“But you did,” Crowley cooed teasingly. He looked serious after a moment. “I have a few questions about Anathema.”   
  
“Yes?”    
  
“Can she read and write?” Crowley asked. It wasn’t the question Aziraphale expected.   
  
“Yes?” Aziraphale responded, confused.   
  
“How much do you trust her?” Crowley questioned.   
  
“With my life,” was Aziraphale’s instant response.   
  
“Is she a good people person?”    
  
“Yes. Crowley, why are you asking me these things?” Aziraphale asked him, still confused.   
  
“I have open positions on the council and was wanting to give her a promotion, if that would be alright with you.”   
  
Aziraphale gaped at him for a moment before smiling. “She’d love that and it would be perfectly alright with me.”   
  
“And her husband?”   
  
“Newt has a good head on his shoulders, but I would advise you to keep him away from any weapons or forms of machinery,” Aziraphale warned.   
  
“Alright, noted.” Crowley looked confused but seemed to be ready to trust Aziraphale’s word on the matter. Thank goodness.

They finished their breakfast in comfortable silence. 

Anathema didn’t seem surprised by her promotion but seemed delighted, nonetheless. She winked at Aziraphale “Don’t worry, I’ll help you with your gowns until we find someone new to replace me.”   
  
“Oh thank goodness,” Aziraphale quipped, “I was worried I’d get stuck with no help and I’d have to wear the same gown for a week.”   
  
“Couldn’t have that,” Anathema agreed.   
  
The doors to the throne room opened suddenly and a knight strode through, wearing silver armor and a flowing blue cape. They bowed as they reached the throne “Your highness.”   
  
Crowley stood, uncharacteristically sober, addressing the rest of the room, including Anathema. “Leave us.”   
  
The council that had come to see their new member murmured amongst themselves as they filed out of the room. Anathema accepted the deed to her new land and home as a council member from Crowley, before bowing politely and leaving the throne room as well.   
  
Aziraphale stood to leave but Crowley gestured for him to sit as he himself sat back down. “Stay. This is someone I’d like you to meet.”   
  
The knight removed his helmet to reveal a mess of dark curls, sharp jawline, tanned skin, and bright blue eyes. They bowed to Aziraphale “Prince Aziraphale, I am Thurstan The Just. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”   
  
“This is another knight of my round table,” Crowley explained to Aziraphale. “I trust them with my life and by extension, yours. They’re someone you can trust.”   
  
Aziraphale inclined his head politely, noting that the beta was built more like an alpha… in fact, they were built quite similarly to Crowley. 

The throne room doors opened and Millicent, Savaric, and Gilbert all strode in. Millicent called out to them “Oi! Thurstan!”   
  
Thurstan’s entire demeanor softened at the sound of her voice and they gave Crowley a wry look “I have an important matter to discuss with you privately.”   
  
Millicent was close enough to hear them by then and rolled her eyes. “Alright, we missed you too.”   
  
Thurstan reached over and flicked her in the forehead “Don’t be impatient. We can catch up over dinner.”   
  
Savaric bounced onto Thurstan’s back as a way of greeting “I wanted you to see us now, though!” Thurstan chuckled at their friend, patting him softly on the knee as a reciprocation of the sentiment.   


Gilbert all but pulled his husband off their friend, seemingly used to the behavior. “They’ve been on a solitary mission and could have injuries, love.”   
  
“Oops, sorry!” Savaric rubbed the back of his head shyly.   
  
Crowley wrapped an arm around Thurstan’s shoulders, addressing Aziraphale “I have to speak with them privately, but we’ll be having a dinner to celebrate their return. You should invite Anathema and Newt as well.”   
  
Aziraphale pried his eyes away from where Crowley’s hand was hanging loosely over Thurstan’s chest, feeling something ugly curling in his gut. “Alright, I’ll be sure to do that. I’ll see you then.”   
  
Crowley grinned at him before he and the beta knight left the room.   


Crowley was quiet at dinner, looking somber. Aziraphale wondered if Thurstan had bad news for the regent during their private meeting. He glanced over at the knight but they were in deep conversation with Gilbert and seemed quite cheerful.    
  
Aziraphale hesitantly reached over and touched Crowley’s hand, barely even noticing that he’d done it. The alpha jumped slightly at the contact as Aziraphale asked him, “Are you alright?”   
  
Crowley smiled softly at him. “Yeah, just had some bad news from an old friend of mine is all. The word most would use is  _ heartbroken _ but I’m not sure if I have the right to say it, seeing as how I didn’t know them well enough to feel this way.”   
  
Aziraphale squeezed his hand in sympathy, understanding all too well. “Your feelings are valid. I hope you and your friend may one day reconcile.”   
  
“I do too, angel,” Crowley told him softly, pulling his hand away before downing his wine. 

Aziraphale blushed, realizing what he’d done, and reached over to down his wine as well. He locked eyes with Anathema as he sat down his cup and blushed as she gave him a knowing look. Millicent, who was sitting beside her, had her elbows on the table and was touching her forehead as if annoyed.   
  
Savaric spoke up “Milly, are you alright?”   
  
“Yeah,” She answered, “I just have this headache is all. It’ll pass soon, I hope.”   


_ Aziraphale leaned against a tree, panting from the exertion of the battle as he looked over at his companion, who was laughing to himself as he sharpened his sword. The smell of alpha was rolling off him in waves, strangely familiar, with hints of smoke and something sweet underneath… perhaps a fruit. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “That was something,” The Black Knight was saying, laughing to himself “I’d say our rescue score is getting a bit even by now. I’m surprised they got the drop on you.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Aziraphale didn’t respond. He never did. But oh how he wanted to. He wanted to laugh along with him, sit next to him by the fire he was making to set up camp. He wanted to stay and lay with him on the fur pallet he was rolling out. The fur probably smelled of alpha and woodsmoke, and he imagined that filling his senses as he gave himself to an alpha for the first time. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Angel, you can talk to me. It’s alright.” Crowley’s voice broke him from his thoughts. No, it was The Black Knight’s voice. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He watched in awe as The Black Knight approached him, his smell overpowering Aziraphale’s senses. _

_ “Aziraphale…” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Aziraphale suddenly realized his armor was gone, and he was left shivering in the woods with The Black Knight standing over him. He watched as the knight removed his helmet, curly red hair tumbling out.  _ _   
_   
The omega bolted upright in bed, panting. He touched his face, embarrassed. Did he really dream that he was about to be taken in the woods by… Crowley? No, it was a fantasy about The Black Knight… or perhaps both? Either way, it was highly inappropriate.   
  
He laid back down, staring at the ceiling until his thoughts drifted back to his dream. Crowley removed his armor, bit by bit, to reveal his tanned wiry frame. He was leaned but well-toned and muscular, from years of fighting. Aziraphale, who had never been one for large hulking muscles, found him achingly beautiful.   
  
Aziraphale imagined he was laying on the pallet, warmed by the fire, and then warmed by the body covering his own.

He found himself trailing a hand down his trembling body and pulling up his nightgown to reveal his sex. The night air touching his wetness made him shiver slightly as he stroked himself with a hesitant finger. He bit his lip, attempting to stifle his noise despite no one being around, as he circled his own entrance, gathering enough slick to lubricate his finger before pushing in.

Aziraphale thought about how The Black Knight would touch him like this, making sure he was wet enough, before breaching him with his cock. He’d be so good to him, making sure he was alright as he was being taken apart bit by bit. The thought brought a small noise out of him as he moved his finger faster, reaching down with his other hand to rub himself on one bundle of nerves as his finger stroked another inside himself.   
  
It wasn’t long before he felt a familiar build and he didn’t stop until his body tensed and shuddered, a gush of slick flowing out of him as his lips formed a familiar two-syllable name.

He panted in the aftermath, his legs trembling and his face flaming. Oh dear, this most certainly wasn’t good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk if it's obvious in the dinner scene but Millicent is 1000% done with them right now lol
> 
> What did you all think of Thurstan??? :D


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Blood, gore, violence, near-death experience, threats of non-con
> 
> Special thanks to CandyQueen for helping me with the prophesy! <3

Aziraphale glanced up from his book as the doors of the library opened. Crowley and Millicent stepped into the room, looking solemn. 

Before Aziraphale could bid them hello, Crowley spoke up. “Angel, some things have come up, and I believe it would be appropriate for you to have a guard at all times. You are not to stray from them at any moment until I deem it is safe. Am I understood?”   
  
Aziraphale was stunned. No hello? No exchange of pleasantries? Where was any of this coming from? The omega snapped his book shut and narrowed his eyes. “Since when are you so demanding?”   
  
“Since we received intel that there will be an attack on the castle. Millicent informed me of your encounter with Michael and I didn’t want to address it, seeing as how it must’ve frightened you, but it needs to be addressed now. What did Michael say to you?” Crowley questioned him, his posture and jaw tense.   
  
Aziraphale felt his throat tighten as he slowly set down his book. “I-I suppose it happened rather quickly. Michael wanted me to do something for her and she said that she and my other siblings would forgive me.”   
  
Crowley crossed the room and eyed him, a dangerous glint in his eye. “What did she want you to do? What did you tell her?”   
  
Aziraphale met his gaze head-on and unflinching as he said, “She never said, I’m afraid. I told her that she could deliver a message from me to Gabriel or die.”   
  
“What was the message?” Crowley asked him, the tensions in his shoulder relaxing slightly.   
  
“I didn’t have the chance to tell her before Millicent inter-  _ rescued _ me. I was going to tell her to inform Gabriel that if he and I were to ever cross paths again, I would kill him.”   
  
Crowley smirked then, all earlier fire seemingly gone, “Tough words for a sheltered prince.”   
  
“Anger makes for a useful teacher, I’m afraid,” Aziraphale told him, smiling weakly. “I would hope you weren’t under the impression I would betray you.”   
  
“Of course not,” Crowley told him, clearly a lie. Aziraphale struggled not to take offence to that. He could understand the paranoia of being in Crowley’s position at the moment. They had been taught to hate each other their entire lives, after all, and Crowley's position as regent was still tenuous at best.

“Why would I need a guard then? If not to ensure I  _ behave _ ?” Aziraphale questioned the alpha, a slight edge to his voice.   


Crowley rolled his eyes. “It’s for  _ your safety _ . I’m unsure if the attack is intended for me or you, and I want to be sure you are safe and not running from your guards the first chance you get. You had Savaric worried sick, and you saw where that got you.”   
  
Aziraphale felt his face warm as he opened his book, and feigned at resuming his reading. “As you wish, then. Though I request that as soon as this is over, I no longer have a guard. I like my privacy.”   


“Thank you for cooperating. Millicent will be on the first watch with you and Savaric on second, with Thurstan on the third. If you encounter danger with one, run and seek out another of my round table knights. Do not engage with attackers.” Crowley’s voice was firm and allowed no room for argument. Aziraphale noted that he hadn’t seen this side of Crowley before, but he had told the alpha to not hold back his ugly emotions with him. He wondered briefly if Crowley used that voice in the bedroom.    
  
His face flamed and he took a deep breath to steady himself before turning to Crowley and nodding his assent, not trusting his voice. Crowley crossed to the balcony doors and stepped out, apparently to inspect the balcony.   
  
Millicent gave him a wry look as she sat down “You’ll have to forgive his grouchiness. He’s just worried, is all.”   


“He’s quite lucky I didn’t assault him with my book. It’s quite heavy,” Aziraphale quipped, speaking up loud enough for the alpha to hear.   
  
He heard Crowley scoff from the balcony and smiled to himself, glad for the decrease in tension between them.

Crowley entered the room and gently sat next to Aziraphale. He turned to Millicent. “Step outside please, I’d like to speak with Aziraphale privately.”   
  
Millicent’s lips twitched to fight a smirk as she stood and left the room.

“I want to apologize, for questioning your loyalty,” Crowley began, looking apologetic. “It’s hard to not question everyone and everything right now, but you haven’t done anything to indicate you were anything but honorable and true. You’ve never lied to me and I can’t say that about everyone.”   
  
Aziraphale schooled his reaction. True, he had made a deal with Crowley and had every intention of honoring their arrangement and staying loyal to Crowley but… he  _ had _ lied to Crowley quite often. Maybe he could just tell him? Crowley didn’t seem like he would be angry with Aziraphale’s hidden identity. But then again… Aziraphale was trying to prevent what Crowley had ultimately done. That made them enemies. The realization dropped into his stomach like a piece of lead. No, he could never tell Crowley about that side of himself.

Crowley must’ve taken his lack of an answer as an indication to continue because he gently grabbed Aziraphale’s hand and turned to face him, his knee nearly brushing against Aziraphale’s. “I truly believe our arrangement is working splendidly, and will continue to work. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you I need you. Will you forgive me?”   
  
“There’s nothing to forgive, Crowley,” Aziraphale told him.

Crowley smiled at him before gently bringing Aziraphale’s hand up and kissing the back of it tenderly. He abruptly let go, as if suddenly realizing what he’d done, and stood to leave as he began speaking again, “I have some paperwork to catch up on but I’ll see you at dinner?”   
  
Aziraphale was staring at where Crowley had kissed his hand as he nodded numbly. Crowley made a string of unintelligible noises before leaving the room at last.   
  
Millicent entered the room through the door before it closed, her eyes sparkling with mirth “What happened?”   
  
“Dear girl, I have no idea,” Aziraphale answered her, dazed.   


Thurstan burst out laughing as Crowley recounted his fumble with Aziraphale. Crowley looked up from his paperwork and glared at them. “You’re an arse for making fun of your  _ best friend _ over this.”    
  
“I’m surprised he let you,” Thurstan told him, wiping away a tear of laughter. “He has an alpha, you know.”   
  
Crowley’s brain came to a screeching halt at that information. “He does?”   
  
Thurstan gave him a deadpan look. “Yes, everyone in Heaven knows it. Savaric didn’t tell you?”   
  
The alpha numbly shook his head, recounting all of the courting gifts Aziraphale hadn’t acknowledged and how he covered up his scent, perhaps to hide the smell of his alpha.   


Thurstan sobered up, looking sympathetic. “Oh no, Anthony…”   
  
Crowley sighed, leaning back in his chair and burying his face in his hands, “It’s alright, I suppose. I can hardly force someone to return my affections. It’s my curse that everyone I fall for has a reason they can never feel the same way.”   
  
“Well…” Thurstan began sheepishly, “It gets worse.”

Millicent sighed heavily and Aziraphale looked up from his book to glare at her. “May I help you?”   
  
“I’m just bored is all,” Millicent told him innocently.   
  
Aziraphale turned back to his book with a huff. “Then perhaps you should speak with your superior about this ridiculous business of me having a personal guard.”   
  
“Yeah, I suppose I should. Maybe I’ll tell him who you really are so he can be assured you can protect yourself,” Millicent threatened flippantly.   
  
Aziraphale snapped his book shut, annoyed. “What do you propose I do to alleviate your boredom?”   
  
“Fight me,” Millicent smirked. “I’ve always wanted to take you on but The Black Knight was so protective of you and would’ve fought me off you if I had tried. So, a friendly spar seems to be in order.”   
  
Aziraphale blushed at that information. “How do you suppose we do that without being caught?”   
  
“King’s private training rooms. Crowley is doing his paperwork today and won’t be using them. We’ll have privacy there.”

The omega felt his lips twitch into a smirk. “I suppose it would be bad manners to deny such a request after you helped me so much.”   
  
“I suppose it would,” Millicent smirked back.   
  
Aziraphale began to realize that maybe he could find a friend in Millicent.

They snuck past several guards and servants, fighting back laughter the entire journey to their destination. The king’s training room was vast and full of top-grade equipment. Aziraphale looked around in awe as he spoke, “I’ve never been in here before.”   
  
“Where did you train?” Millicent asked him as she removed her brocade coat and draped it over an archery target before balancing her sword across it.   
  
“In my bedroom, with a sword. I had stolen it from the lower knights training grounds,” Aziraphale admitted sheepishly. “I eventually found connections through Anathema on how to procure a better sword and armor. Newt’s father is a master blacksmith, though Newt himself had never mastered the craft.”   


Millicent looked impressed as she grabbed the two of them training swords, “It seemed you worked hard for it.”   
  
“It was my only freedom,” Aziraphale admitted softly. “I’ve never been allowed to think for myself or to be myself and as The White Knight… I suppose I thought I could save people and make a difference more so than I can as a prince.”   
  
“You’re speaking in the past tense,” Millicent observed.   
  
“I had actually left a note for The Black Knight, breaking things off,” Aziraphale admitted quietly. “If I continue as The White Knight, it would not only look suspicious but it would also be a betrayal of my pact with Crowley. It would make the two of us enemies.”   


Millicent nodded, seeming to weigh her words carefully before she responded, “I think that if Crowley can allow for The Black Knight to be revered and honored, he can allow the same for The White Knight. They and Crowley aren’t so different in their ideals, you know.”    


She handed him a sword and they moved into a fighting stance before Aziraphale responded, “I don’t want him to believe me to be a traitor, in any capacity. No harm would come to him by my hand, of course, but he’s already told me he trusts me and… well, I don’t want to make him regret that.”   
  
“Suit yourself,” Millicent responded before lunging.    
  
Aziraphale parried her attack before countering. She deftly avoided the swiped of his sword and stepped away to make some distance between the two of them. He grinned at her. She grinned back. They surged forward, far more aggressive than before.   
  
Millicent blocked Aziraphale’s downward swing and they stood there for a moment, struggling against each other. She eventually was able to deflect him just long enough to knock his feet out from under him. He hit the ground and found the end of her blade against his chin as she gave him a smug grin. “Yield.”   
  
Aziraphale responded by kicking at her legs and knocking her over before quickly standing up and grabbing his sword. He grinned at the reverse of their previous position as he tapped her chin with the end of the sword. “That’s my line, dear girl.”   
  
“Draw?” She offered, laughing.

“Draw.” He agreed, laughing as well. “You do have the upper hand. You’re wearing trousers and I’m in a corset. Hardly fair.”   
  
Millicent rolled her eyes, “As if that’s more constricting than the steel armor.”   
  
They moved back into position and lunged into their next round of sparring.

Crowley cursed, standing up. “I can’t get anything done while frustrated like this. I need to work this off.”   
  
Thurstan gave him a dubious look, “Fighting or...?”   
  
“Fighting, you prat,” Crowley half snarled. “The last thing I want to think about after that information you just gave me is falling into bed with someone.”   
  
“I don’t know, it may do you some good,” Thurstan replied diplomatically.    
  
Crowley gave them a deadpan look. “Do you want to spar or not?”   
  
“I’d be delighted to,” Thurstan grinned as they stood. “I’ve been excited to try out the King’s training rooms. Gilbert told me they’re well equipped.”

Aziraphale deflected Millicent’s blow before countering. She moved to dodge but wasn’t quick enough this time and he knocked her off her feet. The thud of her hitting the ground coincided with the sound of the door opening.   
  
Crowley and Thurstan stood at the entrance, gaping at the two of them. Aziraphale quickly changed his poise and moved to hold his sword incorrectly.    
  
He expected the alpha to get angry but he just stood there, looking dumbfounded, as the alarm bells began sounding. That broke the four of them out of their awkward stand-off, and Crowley and his knights moved into action.   
  
Crowley ran to the armory and grabbed swords for himself and Thurstan, as Millicent ran to the real sword she’d left with her coat. 

“Blast it, they’ve come sooner than I expected. Protect Aziraphale at all costs,” Crowley shouted to Millicent.   


Crowley and Thurstan ran from the room and Aziraphale moved to grab a weapon but was stopped by Millicent. “I can handle this. We’ve already had a close call of you getting caught and we don’t want to take that risk again. Just stay behind me,” she told him firmly.

They left the training room quietly, attempting not to be seen by anyone. Millicent spoke to him as they walked, “Gilbert and Savaric are on the top floors of the east and west wing of the castle. Crowley and Thurstan are most likely making their way to the throne room in hopes they’re after Crowley. We’re going to be making our way to your room where I can guard you best and we can stay put until this is taken care of.”   
  
No sooner had she spoke than they rounded a corner and were confronted by a group of people in mismatched armor and low-grade weapons. Mercenaries, undoubtedly. Millicent shoved him. “Run!”

Aziraphale, for once, did as he was told. He cursed silently to himself as he realized how hard it was to run in his dress and shoes. He moved to run up the stairs and was snatched violently by his hair and pulled against a broad chest that stunk of alpha. He felt hot breath on his neck as his attacker spoke. “What do we have here? Are you the little omega we were told to deliver? I can see why. You’re too pretty to go to waste.”   
  
The prince struggled against the alpha’s grip. “Let me go!”   
  
“That won’t be happening, sweetheart. I’m getting paid far too much for your delivery and I was told we get to play with you as much as we wanted as a bonus. Your brother was most generous.”   
  
Aziraphale had heard enough. He grappled with the mercenary until his hand found the hilt of a dagger. He didn’t waste a moment before his hand gripping the dagger shot up and sliced into the mercenary’s wrist. He screamed and released Aziraphale, who wasted no time in lunging into his space to sink the blade into his jugular.    
  
He sighed at the state of his dress before picking his feet up to remove his satin heels. They won’t do him any good right now. He pulled the dagger from the mercenary’s corpse and continued on his way.   


He found Savaric fighting for his life and dreadfully outnumbered. He jumped into the fray, taking the first mercenary off guard and driving his blade into his chest. He picked up the mercenary’s sword before swiping out at his next attacker.    
  
Savaric noticed him but didn’t comment, as he was busy fighting. They had eventually dwindled the mercenaries down to two when Aziraphale realized his opponent was much bigger than him. He moved to attack but the mercenary disarmed him before picking him up by his neck and lifting him off the ground. 

Aziraphale thought he heard Savaric shout something but it was just background noise over the mercenary pulling him to eye level as Aziraphale uselessly kicked out his feet and gasped for air “You’re not worth the money, bitch.” He then slung Aziraphale through the nearby window.   
  
He hit the slanted rooftop and desperately struggled to find something to grip onto as he rolled off the roof’s edge. Suddenly his wrist was caught in a firm grip and he looked up to see Savaric precariously hanging over the edge and holding him up. The alpha smiled weakly at him. “Come here often?”   
  
Aziraphale let out a breathless laugh, slightly hysteric at the thought of what could’ve just happened, “I’m afraid this is my first time. I’d rather not return though.”

Savaric sobered up slightly, “I’m going to have to swing you up so uh, try not to fall and die?”   
  
“I’ll try my best,” Aziraphale assured weakly.    
  
Savaric managed to swing Aziraphale high enough to grip onto the roof’s edge before finding a more stable position on the rooftop and helping him the rest of the way up. The two of them collapsed next to each other, panting and laughing.   


“What about the man who threw me?” Aziraphale asked Savaric.   
  
“Oh, I killed him while he was distracted,” Savaric panted out, laughing again. “That was terrifying.”   
  
“Indeed,” Aziraphale agreed, wincing at the pain in his arm from embedded shards of glass. “So about me fighting…”   
  
“I recognize your fighting style from anywhere,” Savaric told him, grinning. “You’re The White Knight, aren’t you?”   
  
Aziraphale gaped at him, blushing.   
  
“It’s alright!” Savaric assured. “If you want to keep it a secret, I’ll make sure it stays safe with me. I won’t even tell Gilbert if you don’t wish it.”   
  
“Thank you,” Aziraphale replied, feeling a rush of guilt. “I know I’ve been cold to you-”   
  
“Don’t worry about it. I understand why you distrust alphas and why you wouldn’t have wanted a guard in that area of the woods,” He winked. “If you do wish to apologize, you can do so by letting me take you out for crepes sometime soon. You can pay, of course.”

Aziraphale felt a smile creep up onto his face. “I’d like that. I love crepes.”   
  
“Aziraphale!? Savaric!?” Crowley’s voice yelled from the broken window.   
  
“We’re out here and we’re fine!” Savaric called back. He turned to Aziraphale with a wry smile, “I don’t suppose you want to take bets on how much trouble I’m getting into for the state you’re in?”

Crowley leaned against a table in the infirmary with his arms crossed as he watched Madame Tracy, the court physician, remove the window glass from Aziraphale’s arm and shoulder. Crowley’s voice was a low growl as he spoke, “I don’t suppose you would mind explaining to me why you pursued a fight rather than running from it?”   


“I couldn’t simply stand there and do nothing.” Aziraphale jutted his chin defiantly.   
  
“I told you to-” Crowley began.   
  
“Yes, I’m aware,” Aziraphale snapped, interrupting him. “You’re not my alpha and you’re not the boss of me. I’m not one of your subordinates. I can make my own decisions.” Madame Tracy smirked slightly at his words, though Crowley couldn’t see it due to her back being turned.   
  
“You could have died! Do you not understand that!?” Crowley nearly shouted. He realized he’d raised his voice and took a calming breath, running his trembling hands through his hair and down his face. “I- I saw a tear of your dress amongst the glass, and I was so scared I’d lost you.”   
  
Aziraphale sighed, feeling his anger die down at the miserable look on his sort-of friend’s face. “I’m sorry. I suppose I didn’t realize you were that worried about my safety. Even though I’m not a fighter, I felt that I could at least distract some of them to buy Savaric some time to kill them. Of course, I didn’t expect one to throw me.” It was only a partial lie. He  _ truly _ didn’t expect one to be able to throw him.   
  
Tracy finished removing the glass from his arm and turned to Crowley. “Sire, Aziraphale is going to have to undress for me to finish removing the glass, so I’ll have to respectfully ask that you leave for a while.”   
  
Crowley looked hesitant. “When can I come back?”   
  
“I’ll have someone send for you if his highness isn’t feeling too tired for company,” the physician assured him softly. “Now be a dear and shoo.” She made a shooing gesture as he reluctantly left the room. The two men locked eyes as Crowley reached the door and he quickly broke eye contact, leaving.   
  
Aziraphale sighed, quoting The Black Knight, “Well that went down like a lead balloon.”   
  
Madame Tracy just chuckled as he stood for her to help him down out of his dress. “He seems to care for you a great deal.”   
  
“I suppose we’re becoming friends, sort of,” He admitted quietly. “I didn’t want to make him angry. I just couldn’t see Savaric in trouble and do nothing.”

“You’re like your mother in that way,” Tracy laughed softly as she tossed his ruined and bloody dress to a hamper before grabbing a bowl of clean water and a clean cloth. “Your father was constantly fretting over why she got herself in the situations she did but it didn’t make him love her any less any more than it made her stop.”   
  
Aziraphale felt a knot in his throat, “I miss them.”   
  
“I know, love,” Tracy soothed, gently wiping his wounds clean. “Everyone has their time, and even tragedies can pave the way for a great destiny. I’ve been speaking with Agnes and we both feel something great in your future.”   
  
“What did Agnes say, exactly?” Aziraphale asked her suspiciously. “You know she can be unnervingly cryptic.”   


Tracy gave him a knowing sort of smile before quoting “‘Listen, O' Foolish Prince! The Knight's Black and Conquering King, two souls in one, shall deliver unto you a little death. And with it, bring the first echoes of life. Two souls in one, two hearts in one.’”

He gaped at her for a moment before laughing “As I said, it wouldn’t make sense. Is she suggesting that The Black Knight is a king?”   
  
“Well, I suppose,” Tracy told him, shrugging. “It’s hard to tell with her, I admit.”

“A little death?” Aziraphale repeated, feeling sober suddenly. “Does that mean he is going to kill me? Or attempt to kill me?”   
  
Tracy smirked. “Deary, there’s another thing commonly called ‘a little death.’”    
  
“Hmm? What is that?” Aziraphale asked her, curious.   
  
She opened her mouth then closed it, appearing to think over what she was about to tell him before she undoubtedly decided she didn’t mind embarrassing him, “An orgasm, dear. The Black Knight is going to give you an orgasm.”   
  
Aziraphale felt his face flame, and he covered it as she pulled away to go grab salve and bandages. “Oh dear, it couldn’t be that. He doesn’t even know who I am. It’ll probably be him actually killing me.”   
  
Tracy rolled her eyes but said nothing as she finished bandaging him up and helped him into a clean dressing gown. “Would you like for me to send for Prince Crowley?”   
  
“Yes please,” Aziraphale mumbled distractedly, still thinking about the prophecy. Conquering King? The only King that was conquering anything was technically Crowley’s father, King Lucifer of Hell, but he was most certainly not The Black Knight. Crowley wasn’t a king so it couldn’t be him… He covered his face. It most certainly couldn’t be about him. 

Crowley responded to the servant Aziraphale had sent for him before turning back to his battle plans, jotting down a few notes about weak points in Hell’s defenses. He gathered up his papers before putting them in his desk drawer and locking it. It wouldn’t do for anyone to find those just yet.   
  
He made his way back to the infirmary, thinking over what he was going to say to Aziraphale about all he’d learned about him that day. He didn’t even know where to begin.

Aziraphale was reading a book when he entered the room, his brows scrunched as if he was in deep thought, rather than the relaxed bliss normally on his face when reading. Crowley knocked on the open door to catch his attention before entering the room. “I’m sorry for my frustration earlier. I was just worried but that’s no excuse for taking it out on you. Again.”   
  
“Apology accepted. I apologize for disobeying your orders intended to keep me safe and putting myself in danger.”    
  
Crowley smiled weakly at him. “We need to talk.”   
  
“About what?” Aziraphale asked him, looking confused and a bit wary.   
  
Crowley took a deep breath as golden-brown eyes met stormy-blue “I know about your connection with The White Knight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof. Well, that was a thing.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed and thank you for reading! I live for comments <3 <3 <3


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a monster and I'm sorry for the cliffhanger lol haha

“I know about your connection with The White Knight.”

Aziraphale gripped his book tightly, struggling for an answer. He took a calming breath, telling himself not to panic yet. Crowley didn’t seem mad. “And what would that connection be?” He asked quietly.  
  
Crowley looked uncomfortable, shifting his weight from one foot to another. “They’re your alpha. You could have told me you were spoken for. I wouldn’t have given you so many gifts. Please know that I meant no disrespect towards your partner.”   
  
Aziraphale blinked at him, wondering who told Crowley about the tournaments. Nevertheless, Aziraphale’s secret was still safe, and that was a relief. “I erm…" Aziraphale explained,"Well, he’s not my alpha, really. He won the tournaments for my hand but he never stayed to take it.”   
  
Crowley nodded slowly, processing. “So the gifts didn’t bother you?”   
  
“Why would it bother me for you to give me gifts?” Aziraphale questioned him, confused. “They’re gifts for my cooperation, are they not?”   
  
The alpha made an unintelligible noise but said nothing else.   
  
Aziraphale shut his book and sat it on the bed next to him to give Crowley his full attention. “If my loyalty to you is coming into question, please know that I have never nor will I ever betray you. I don’t have an alpha at all. It’s just a nasty rumor some of the losers of the tournament like Sir Geoffrey started because they were angry I wasn’t theirs.”   
  
“So… you’re not mated to The White Knight?” Crowley asked him, his voice small.   
  
“Of course not,” Aziraphale scoffed. “He’s hardly my type.” Not a lie, Aziraphale wanted a man that was different than him. A foil of sorts. He liked men like The Black Knight and Crowley who had no problem being themselves and voicing what they were actually thinking.   
  
Crowley seemed to relax slightly as he sat on the end of the bed next to Aziraphale’s feet. “I wasn’t questioning your loyalty at all, I promise. I just… I don’t know.”   
  
“You’re just a curious serpent who feels he has to know the truth behind everything,” Aziraphale teased him, smiling and nudging the alpha with his foot.   
  
Crowley twisted and caught Aziraphale behind his knee before pulling him to the end of the bed. Aziraphale blushed at their proximity while Crowley’s eyes scanned his face. “I am. I’m especially curious about you. Is it really a sin for me to want to know everything about you? Every secret you stash away in that brilliant mind of yours?”

The alpha’s hand was solid and warm on Aziraphale’s bare leg as they sat in each other’s space, close enough to… Oh, bugger it all. Aziraphale looked up at Crowley through his lashes to see the alpha’s eyes dilate slightly. He was obviously thinking the same thing.  
  
The door suddenly opened and the two of them moved away from one another quickly, embarrassed. Savaric stood in the open door, looking apologetic. “Should I leave?”   
  
“No!” They both nearly shouted in unison.   
  
Crowley dragged a hand down his face before turning to Aziraphale and grinning weakly “I’m glad you’re alright and I’m glad we had that talk.”   
  
“Likewise,” Aziraphale responded, his voice neutral.

Crowley quickly left the room and Savaric smirked when the door closed. “Was I interrupting something?”  
  
“No,” Aziraphale lied. At least, it may have been something. That, or Crowley was that touchy with everyone.   
  
Savaric clearly didn’t believe him but apparently decided to drop it. He held up his arm that wasn’t in a sling. “I brought you crepes as a get well gift!” When Aziraphale had fallen from the rooftop, Savaric had actually dislocated his arm. Aziraphale had apologized profusely when he’d first found out but Savaric waved him off, saying they were even.   
  
Aziraphale grinned, amused, as Savaric gestured for Aziraphale to make room for Savaric to sit with him on the bed. “You’re healing too,” Aziraphale pointed out.   
  
“Yeah, so it’s for both of us!” Savaric giggled as he opened the bag. “Gilbert actually bought them for me but I told him to get enough for you too.”   
  
“He seems to be a good husband,” Aziraphale observed, accepting a crepe from his newfound companion.   
  
“He’s the best!” Savaric enthused, his eyes bright with happiness.   
  
Aziraphale found his happiness contagious and smiled as well, settling against the headboard. “How did the two of you meet?”   
  
“Gilbert had already sworn his loyalty to Prince Crowley and the two were traveling together, along with Millicent and Thurstan, when they found me. Bandits had attacked my village and they had taken me hostage, as I was the local lord’s son.” Savaric gave him a wry look. “I was a late bloomer and hadn’t presented yet. They assumed I was an omega and were going to sell me if my father didn’t meet their demands.”   
  
Aziraphale frowned in sympathy. “But Gilbert saved you?”   
  
“Well, Crowley did and I decided to leave my old life behind and follow him.” Savaric chuckled dryly as he continued, “Gilbert wouldn’t even look at me.”   
  
“But… he’s so affectionate with you now,” Aziraphale said, confused.   
  
“I wondered for a while why he didn’t acknowledge me. He was three years older than me and seemed so out of reach, even up close.” Savaric smiled softly at the memory, “I even hoped for a while that I would present as an omega so he would look at me and want me. Then one day I woke up so agitated I could barely stand it. He said something that set me off and I yelled at him for ignoring me so often.”   
  
“What happened then?” Aziraphale asked him softly.

“Then he approached me and for a moment I thought he was angry but then he just… kissed me.” Savaric shrugged, smiling to himself. “Turns out, he thought I was beautiful and was too shy to speak to me. Can you imagine?” His eyes were far away as he concluded his story. “That night I presented as an alpha. I was upset at first but then he just continued to love me as if our gender had nothing to do with it. We were married and mated by the end of the year.”

“I've always had this opinion of alphas, based on the few I’d known but… I’m beginning to realize I was wrong. About all of you.” His face burned in shame at the thought of how rude he was to such a kind person like Savaric, based solely on his gender.

Savaric nudged him sympathetically. “It’s alright to be wary of us, especially since some have lived most of their lives at the top of the social hierarchy, and see that as an excuse to act the way they want. You can trust the company Prince Crowley keeps. No harm would come to you from any of us.”

“I realize that now,” Aziraphale smiled at Savaric. “Thank you, for being so kind to me.”  
  
“Don’t worry about it. This is how friends are supposed to be,” Savaric told him, grinning. He said it so casually, like being friends with someone was that easy.   
  
Aziraphale had been friends with Anathema for as long as he remembered, seeing as how Agnes has worked for his mother and she was the only other child that would approach. He later employed her as his personal maid so Gabriel wouldn’t ban her from the castle. Newt had somewhat married into their friendship. He didn’t know how to just actively make a friend. Was it really that easy?   
  
He found his face splitting into a smile. “Yes, I suppose so. Thank you, for being a friend.”   
  
Maybe it was that easy.

A month passed and Aziraphale's injuries gradually healed. However, the awkward tension between him and Crowley hadn’t. Neither of them mentioned what almost happened in the infirmary, and sometimes Aziraphale wondered if anything _was_ going to happen, or if it was just his imagination.   
  
Aziraphale glanced over at Crowley from where he sat at the breakfast table. He gently set his fork down before speaking up. “Have I offended you?”   
  
Crowley paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. “No? Why?”   
  
“Well, you’ve hardly looked at me since…” Aziraphale glanced around nervously before lowering his voice. “You’ve hardly looked at me since that night in the infirmary.”

Crowley’s face colored slightly as he set his fork down as well, his voice hoarse as he spoke, “I don’t know what you want me to say, angel.”  
  
“I don’t know,” Aziraphale admitted quietly. “Something would be better than nothing.”   
  
“Alright, what sort of plays do you like?” Crowley changed the subject, clearly attempting to move into a safer conversation.   
  
Aziraphale pondered on it for a moment. “Tragedies, I suppose.”   
  
“Ah, of course, you like the gloomy ones,” Crowley groaned playfully. “I’ve always liked the funny ones.” 

“Of course you would,” Aziraphale quipped, “they’re almost as ridiculous as you are.”  
  
“Says the man who thinks tartan is a stylish pattern,” Crowley snarked back, grinning.   
  
“Better to like an outdated pattern than to use liking the color black as an excuse to forgo color coordination,” Aziraphale responded.   
  
“I can color coordinate!” Crowley defended himself, his voice was slightly shrill.   
  
“Guilty until proven innocent,” Aziraphale told him gravely.   
  
The two of them laughed and carried on with breakfast as if the past month had never happened.

Crowley called for a small meeting in his office, and Aziraphale was surprised when he was invited. The regent sat Aziraphale in his desk chair and opted to lean against the desk himself. Thurstan stood close to him and Aziraphale felt that lurch in his stomach yet again but ignored it.   
  
Millicent sat on the desk on the other side of Aziraphale while Anathema, Newt, Savaric, and Gilbert all loitered about in the office.   
  
“Alright, I’m sure you’re wondering what was so urgent,” Crowley began. “I received news from my father that he and quite a few members of Hell’s court will be paying us a visit. Keeping this in mind, we are to be quiet when it comes to how things are run here. Do not speak to him unless spoken to and whatever you do, don’t give anything away.”   
  
Aziraphale blinked at him, surprised, but said nothing.   
  
Crowley handed out stacks of paper to everyone, save for Aziraphale. “These are your assignments for while my father is here, along with information on both the royal family and the members of the court. Everyone except Aziraphale, you’re dismissed.”

Everyone filed out and Aziraphale internally winced at the knowing looks both Anathema and Savaric shot him. He suddenly regretted telling Anathema what had happened.

“I wanted to speak to you privately because my father is going to treat you differently. He’s not like me. He’s going to view your gender as a weakness and he will talk down to you, but you’ll have to stay quiet and ignore his behavior. If you stand up to him, he’ll have you killed.” Crowley’s voice was shaky, “I don’t like asking this of you but I’m worried.”  
  
Aziraphale gently reached out to grab his hand, “It’s alright. I kept my mouth shut with Gabriel for years. I believe I can handle your father for a week.”

Crowley squeezed his hand gently, still troubled.

Aziraphale stood and walked until he was standing in front of Crowley. “What’s actually troubling you?”  
  
“My father is a very evil man and I’m concerned he’ll hurt you to spite me,” Crowley admitted, his eyes clouded.   
  
“I won’t let him hurt me,” Aziraphale assured him softly. “It’s kind of you to worry about me but I can handle myself.”   
  
“I hope so,” Crowley sighed.

Crowley spent the next week clearly troubled but did a good job of keeping his composure. Things came to a boil during their next meeting with the council. 

“No. Absolutely not!” Crowley’s shout could be heard several hallways down and had turned the heads of several servants.   
  
“Sire, if you break this tradition now-” A member of the court began.   
  
“I don’t give a damn about tradition! I’m not allowing Aziraphale to be treated like a bloody trophy for-” Crowley began before he was interrupted.   
  
Aziraphale spoke up, rubbing his temples, “I’ll do it. Just, no more yelling, please.”   
  
Crowley gaped at him. “You’re fine with this!?”   
  
“Well, it’s been happening for five years so yes, I’m used to it by now. It’ll be fine,” Aziraphale assured him softly. True, he hated the tournament, but he had a way of getting out of the obligations it presented and it’d be no problem to do it once again this year.

Crowley’s face hardened and his jaw tensed. “Fine,” he gritted out, “do what you wish.” He strode from the meeting room without a backward glance.  
  


Aziraphale and Anathema exchanged a look and Aziraphale stood with a sigh. “Meeting dismissed. I’ll speak to his highness and calm him down.”

“Perhaps he’s angry because he wants to court you?” Anathema offered helpfully as Aziraphale’s temporary maid helped him out of his gown behind the screen.  
  
“I hardly think that’s the reason,” Aziraphale scoffed. “If anything, it’s against that strange moral code of his.” He had managed to calm Crowley down before he did away with the council entirely but he was still clearly troubled by something. Aziraphale wished the alpha would open up to him.   
  
“I don’t find him that strange,” Anathema laughed before winking. “Have you had another incident?”   
  
“We most certainly have not!” Aziraphale told her, scandalized.

“Agnes said differently,” Anathema sang playfully.  
  
Aziraphale stepped out from behind the screen, wearing a dressing gown. “Did she now? Because last I heard she was speaking of someone I trust attempting to kill me.” 

“I don’t think that’s what it meant,” Anathema teased, making Aziraphale blush.  
  
“Oh hush,” He responded.

Aziraphale stood alongside Crowley in the throne room as the king of hell and his entourage entered.   
  
King Lucifer was a tall and imposing man with dark curly hair and a cold smile. He held his hands out as he strode across the throne room. “My son! You have made me proud.”   
  
Crowley bowed to his father and then inclined his head to the person next to him. “Father. Beezlebub. It’s a pleasure to see both of you.” Beezlebub just regarded their little brother with barely concealed distaste.

Lucifer was already looking past him, his eyes dragging slowly over Aziraphale’s frame with enough intensity to make his skin crawl. “Who’s this lovely object?”  
  
Crowley stepped closer to Aziraphale. “A good friend of mine, Prince Aziraphale of Heaven.” 

Aziraphale bowed, feeling Lucifer’s eyes on the low scooped neckline of his Hell-made dress. “It’s an honor to meet you, your majesty.  
  
“A friend?” Lucifer laughed, a cruel sound. “Oh my son, you always were too soft.” He stepped past them to sit on the throne while Beezlebub took the other.   
  
Aziraphale had gotten so used to the sight of Crowley on the throne that Lucifer being there felt so terribly wrong. He quickly looked away and turned his attention to the nobles that had filed in. Crowley placed a gentle hand on the small of his back and pulled him slightly closer as if to protect him. “Aziraphale, these are a few members of the court of Hell. Sir Douglas.” He gestured at a tall, handsome alpha with dark hair and eyes so dark they were nearly black.

He eyed Aziraphale with obvious interest before bowing politely. “Prince Aziraphale, it’s an honor. My little sister has told me much about you in her letters. Good things, of course,” Sir Douglas winked and Aziraphale blushed. He was alarmingly gorgeous.

He darted his eyes from the man’s face to save himself some embarrassment, but then his eyes landed on Sir Douglas’ sword. Time seemed to stop for a moment. He recognized that sword.  
  
He snapped back to the present before bowing back, “Nice to meet you. If I may, who is your sister?”   
  
Crowley chuckled softly, “Millicent. You don’t see the resemblance? Tall, dark-haired, devilishly handsome?” He was right, come to think of it. Millicent was just as alarmingly gorgeous as her brother. Just because Aziraphale did not fancy women, it didn't mean that he couldn't recognize beauty.   
  
“I didn’t notice,” Aziraphale lied, his eyes snapping back to the sword. He knew for sure. That was The Black Knight’s sword. That would explain how Millicent had a connection with The Black Knight! It was her brother!   
  
Crowley gestured at the next person. “Sir Eric Legion.” A beautiful omega with long lashes and two tall spikes in his hair bowed deeply.   
  
“Lovely to meet you,” he told Aziraphale politely before his eyes flicked back to focus on Crowley. “Your highness, I must say I’ve missed your presence in the court. It’s quite lonely when all the handsome alphas are in another country, I’ve found.”   
  
Aziraphale entertained a brief fantasy of stepping closer to Crowley and implying that the two of them were a couple. Obviously he didn’t act on that absurd and intrusive thought.   
  
Crowley laughed, though it wasn’t genuine, and turned to the next person, another omega with chestnut brown hair and green eyes. “And this is Lady Clara.”   
  
She bowed sweetly to Aziraphale, her grin bright “Lovely to meet you! The rest of the court should be arriving tomorrow, along with some nobility from nearby countries.”   
  
“How exciting,” Crowley drawled, tilting his head. Aziraphale noticed that Crowley’s thumb was making a small circular motion on the small of his back. Part of him wanted to lean into the touch and purr happily at the blatant display of possession but the part of him that actually used his brain struggled to assert that Crowley was just protective due to their current situation and that he was possibly standing across from the man he’d been in love with for years.

He glanced at Sir Douglas to see the alpha was still watching him with interest. He blushed and looked away. If he was The Black Knight… this was either going to be a very good experience or a very bad one. He wondered how he could go about gauging if the small death was really death or… _that_ . 

He subconsciously leaned into Crowley’s space and the alpha’s hand moved to grip the side of his waist. “If you’ll excuse us, Prince Aziraphale is feeling a bit under the weather.” Crowley turned to his father as he spoke. 

King Lucifer looked amused and waved his hand “You’re dismissed. We’ll speak later, my son.”

Crowley led Aziraphale to Aziraphale’s personal library before firmly shutting the door behind him, breathing deeply.   
  
“Well… they were all interesting,” Aziraphale commented politely.

“Aside from Sir Douglas and Lady Clara, the lot of them are conniving bastards,” Crowley growled.  
  
“Erm… about Sir Douglas…” Aziraphale began cautiously. “Is he a knight?”   
  
Crowley turned around, looking confused, “He is, though he tends to work alone rather than in a group. Why?”   
  
“No reason, I suppose. He just seemed like one,” Aziraphale lied, thinking about the sword. 

Crowley seemed to deflate slightly, his voice shaky “You don’t have to pretend that’s the only reason. I saw the two of you looking at each other. He’s eligible for the tournament for your hand if he chooses to stay for it. He’s also unmated and has no current understanding with anyone.”  
  
“That’s not why I was asking,” Aziraphale told him honestly. “I really was just curious.”

Crowley walked to the liquor cabinet they had installed a few months prior and pulled out a bottle of brandy. “Want some?” He inquired of the omega. Aziraphale shook his head and watched as Crowley poured a glass before gulping it down and pouring another.  
  
“Is everything alright?” Aziraphale asked him softly, stepping closer.   
  
Crowley stepped away from him. “Yeah, I have to go speak with my father but I would advise you to stay here in the meantime.” He knocked back the second glass of brandy before slamming the empty glass on the end table and leaving without another word. 

Aziraphale sat down with a defeated sigh, knowing that something was wrong but not quite understanding what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new challenger has entered the chat. lol


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter!  
> CW: Toxic family drama, Crowley is drunk and upsetti-spaghetti most of the chapter, mentions of assassination and coupes

Aziraphale looked up from his book when the library doors opened, smiling happily. “Crowley, I was just- Oh, Sir Douglas.” He quickly closed his book and stood up to bow as he spoke, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”  
  
Sir Douglas smiled, his smile was alarmingly attractive like the rest of him. “Oh, I was just hoping to speak with you. Like I told you before, Millicent speaks so highly of you and there’s no one whose opinion matters more to me than hers.”   
  
“Oh? What did she tell you about me?” Aziraphale asked, schooling his expression to casual politeness.   
  
“She told me you’re handy with a sword, but could work on your agility a bit,” Sir Douglas teased, tilting his head. “I was actually going to offer to tutor you. I helped both Millicent and Crowley hone their skill so I may as well extend that favor to you.”   
  
“Did she tell you anything else?” Aziraphale asked him, wringing his hands.   
  
“She said you’re brave, intelligent, and that Crowley is rather intimidated by you but nothing else. Why?” He stepped closer, smirking. Douglas pointed at Aziraphale’s book, “a fan of the bard, I see. Millicent did neglect to tell me you had good taste.”   
  
Aziraphale blushed, admitting, “I normally prefer his tragedies, but Crowley reminded me that his comedies could be quite entertaining as well.”   
  
“I prefer the tragedies as well. I love the portrayal of raw human emotion.” Sir Douglas took a seat next to him and leaned against the arm of the sofa, eyeing him. Aziraphale wondered what kind of person just made themself at home in another’s space but he’d come to learn that the company Crowley kept was always strange.   
  
“May I help you, sir?” Aziraphale asked him, blushing under his gaze.   
  
“I apologize, you’re just beautiful,” Sir Douglas told him. “Your face is quite expressive as well. Can’t miss some things.”   
  
“Like what?” Aziraphale asked him cautiously.   
  
“You’re interested in me. Well, more specifically, my sword.” He tilted his head, eyeing him with intelligent eyes.

“Your what?” Aziraphale asked innocently.  
  
Douglas held up his sword, clearly making an innuendo. So… he really was a fan of the bard.   
  
Aziraphale laughed weakly, his face flaming. “I erm… well, I suppose The Black Knight has a similar sword and he rescued me before and well… Are you perhaps… him?”   
  
“In a manner of speaking,” Sir Douglas responded, evasively. “You know, I’ve never seen you before.”   
  
“I erm… was covered,” Aziraphale mumbled, his heart pounding. Something wasn’t right. The _sword_ was The Black Knights but the voice, the personality… everything was slightly off-kilter.   
  
“With armor, perhaps?” Sir Douglas teased, a knowing glint in his eye. “There’s only one knight I know of that would recognize this sword so quickly.” 

“I’m not a-”  
  
“You are. I can tell when my little sister is hiding something from me, and I wondered what it could be until I saw you, of all people, staring at my sword.”   
  
Aziraphale glared at him “I don’t remember you being this cocky and self-assured.”   
  
“You wouldn’t,” Sir Douglas agreed, his eyes glittering mischievously. “Do you want lessons or not?”   
  
“I suppose I must do,” Aziraphale sighed. He’d never had any formal training after all, and both Millicent and Crowley were quite adept fighters. Though Aziraphale hadn’t had the chance to see Crowley’s prowess yet.

“Great, let’s go,” Sir Douglas clapped his hands together and stood.  
  
Aziraphale frowned. “Crowley told me to stay here.”   
  
“You don’t seem like the kind of man to let someone tell you what to do,” Sir Douglas observed, holding out his hand and tilting his head, his eyes glittering with mischief. “It’ll just be a little while. He’ll never be the wiser.”   
  
Aziraphale stared at his hand for a moment, his heart pounding. He reluctantly had to admit that Sir Douglas had a point… besides, how else was Aziraphale going to get answers from him? 

He took the alpha’s hand.

  
“So he’s unmarked, unmated, and also not betrothed and you just… let him be?” Lucifer laughed condescendingly. “Your weakness for the inferior sex has always been amusing, but this is just ridiculous.”   
  
Crowley felt a muscle in his jaw twitch. “With all due respect Father, I typically like my bed partners to be consenting.”   
  
“Nonsense, just make him an offer he can’t refuse. Point out how good he has it. Any other alpha would’ve taken him the first night.”   
  
“I’d hardly pat myself on the back for being a decent human being,” Crowley told him, feeling a headache coming on. He suddenly wished he’d brought the bottle of brandy with him. “This isn’t something I take lightly.”   
  
“Obviously not. However, what you’re forgetting is that you’re the expendable second son with no spouse, no omega, and no heir.” There was an edge of a threat in Lucifer’s voice. “If the omega is useless to you, there is no sense in keeping him. Heaven will make the mistake in thinking you’re weak enough to bow to the will of an omega.”   
  
“But-”   
  
“If that omega is left as he is by the end of the year, I will execute him myself. Am I making myself clear?”   
  
Crowley glared at him, fighting back the growl that was trying to claw its way out of his chest. “Yes, father.” 

“So glad you can see reason, my son.”

  
“If you hold your feet like this, it’ll be easier to keep your balance,” Sir Douglas instructed, lightly kicking Aziraphale’s feet into their positions.   
  
“Millicent should note I only stumbled a lot during our spar because I was wearing satin heels,” Aziraphale pointed out, blushing in embarrassment.   
  
“You’re wearing heels now so consider it practice, should that situation arise again,” Sir Douglas chuckled as he stepped back. “Now, attack the target.”   
  
Aziraphale did as he was told and Sir Douglas tilted his head, looking impressed. “I like your enthusiasm but you’re expending too much energy per swing of your sword.” He stepped behind Aziraphale and gripped his hands to guide him as he spoke, his body pressed against Aziraphale’s back, “This way you can-”   
  
The door abruptly opened and Crowley stood there, looking irritated while holding a half-drunk bottle of brandy. “Douglas.”   
  
Sir Douglas chuckled dryly before stepping away from Aziraphale. “Crowley, don’t look so angry. I was just showing him how to use a sword.”

“I told Aziraphale to stay in the library,” Crowley grumbled, not looking at Aziraphale. He was clearly drunk.  
  
“Yes, and I told Aziraphale that you aren’t the boss of him,” Sir Douglas told him in a diplomatic tone.   
  
“It’s for his safety! You know how my father is!” Crowley snapped.   
  
“Yes, and you were with him while I was with Aziraphale. See? Perfectly safe. Please do calm down, Crowley.” Sir Douglas’ tone was slightly patronizing, like an older sibling watching their younger sibling throw a tantrum.   
  
Crowley turned his glare to Aziraphale then and the omega approached him, cautiously reaching out to touch his shoulder. “Is everything alright, Crowley?”   
  
“You told me you’d listen to me in the future regarding your safety.” Crowley reminded him harshly, jerking away from his touch.   
  
“I was safe. I was with Douglas,” Aziraphale pointed out, not understanding why Crowley’s eyes hardened as he spoke.   
  
“Well, I suppose I shouldn’t interrupt.” Crowley snipped, moving to walk away. Aziraphale caught his hand, confused.   
  
“Why are you mad at me? Just because you and I have been fraternizing-”   
  
Crowley whirled on him, seething “Fraternizing!?”   
  
“Well, whatever you wish to call it! It doesn’t mean you’re the boss of me!” Aziraphale snapped.   
  
Neither of them noticed Sir Douglas watching the exchange with an amused glint in his eyes.   
  
“I have plenty of other people to fraternize with, Angel,” Crowley snapped.   
  
Aziraphale’s face turned cold and impassive “Oh, of course, you do.” 

“Perhaps this year you should just accept whatever alpha wins the tournament. I think it’s time you left.” Crowley told him, his face cold and blank.  
  
Aziraphale reeled back as if he’d been slapped. He searched Crowley’s face for a hint of regret and saw nothing but cold indifference. “You… you don’t really mean that.”   
  
“I do. I don’t need you,” Crowley told him.   
  
Aziraphale’s eyes welled with angry tears. “And the feeling is mutual, obviously.” Aziraphale shoved past him and stormed out of the training room.   
  
He stared after him before slumping to the floor. “Obviously.”   
  
Douglas crouched next to Crowley and snatched the bottle of brandy from his grip. It wasn’t hard to do, seeing as how Crowley was considerably drunk. “You’re an idiot.”   
  
“Lucifer is going to kill him if he is here and unmarried… I can’t risk that,” Crowley told him wretchedly. “Damn bastard thinks that an omega’s only worth is being bred. Without it, they don’t deserve to live.”   
  
“Try telling Aziraphale this? Let him in on it?” Douglas suggested gently.   
  
“He won’t listen. He’s reckless and it terrifies me,” Crowley let out a bone-deep sigh. “This is what’s best for him.”

“What about… you know… the plan?” Douglas suggested.  
  
“It won’t work for at least another year and Aziraphale won’t have that kind of time,” Crowley told him miserably.

“Right… well, I don’t think it would be worth it for you to lose him in any capacity. You clearly hold affection for him.”  
  
“Yes and the other man I’m in love with is apparently in love with him as well,” Crowley told him, his voice growing bitter as he snatched the bottle of brandy back and took a large swig.   
  
Sir Douglas rolled his eyes “Again, you’re an idiot. Why don’t you apologize? The tournament is six days away and you’ll regret it if you lose him like this.”   
  
Crowley stayed silent and Douglas sighed. “Alright, suit yourself.”

Aziraphale angrily wiped away his tears as he stormed back into his library and slammed the door behind him. He didn’t understand what he’d done to make Crowley so angry and cold with him. He had been fine earlier but now… now he was clearly upset about something and was either too angry with Aziraphale to speak with him or too terrified of someone or something.  
  
“My, you’re an emotional little thing. Is that why my son hasn’t taken you yet?” A smooth voice spoke up.   
  
Aziraphale startled and looked up to see King Lucifer sitting in an armchair and holding a book. He quickly bowed, his body still trembling as he fought to hold back his emotions. “I apologize, your majesty, I didn’t see you.”   
  
“Oh, don’t apologize. Did my son make you angry?” Lucifer asked, tilting his head in amusement when Aziraphale didn’t answer. “I understand, he makes me angry too.”   
  
Aziraphale’s brows furrowed, “I… I don’t understand, your majesty.”   
  
“Does he tell you everything? All his plans?” Lucifer laughed mockingly. “He doesn’t. I can see it on your face.”   
  
“Your majesty… if I may ask… is there a reason for this visit?” Aziraphale asked him cautiously.   
  
“Yes, actually. I came here to speak with you privately,” Lucifer closed his book before standing and crossing the room to step into Aziraphale’s space. The omega fought the urge to step away from him, knowing the action would be seen as blatant disrespect. He reached out a hand to tenderly touched one of his curls, “You’re a beauty, for sure. Are you aware that my son is smitten with you?”   
  
Aziraphale resisted the urge to snatch away, though his skin crawled as Lucifer trailed a hand down his unmarked neck. “I’m sure you’re mistaken, your majesty. He’s my friend and sees me as nothing more.”   
  
“I don’t believe that. Though if it were true, I’m going to need you to change that. See, I have a little favor to ask you.”   
  
“What is the favor?” Aziraphale asked, feeling nauseous as Lucifer’s hand skimmed down the side of his waist.   
  
“I need you to seduce him… and then kill him.” Lucifer told him simply.   
  
Aziraphale snatched away then, “ _Never-_ ”   
  
“Never?” Lucifer interrupted, laughing. “Do you honestly believe you’re _special_ to him in some way? He’ll take you to bed then kick you out the next day. He’s done it before, dozens of times. Me, however… if you do what I say, I wouldn’t mind taking you in. I’ll give you power beyond what you have here.”   
  
Aziraphale steeled his jaw, glaring at him “No.”   
  
“If you refuse me-”   
  
“What? You’ll kill me? So much as touch me and see how fast my alpha comes for you!” Aziraphale hissed, the omega part of him growing defensive. He quickly realized what he had called Crowley, and his own slip up had stunned him into silence. Why had he called Crowley his alpha!?   
  
“Your alpha?” Lucifer laughed again, though his eyes were beginning to show fear. “According to both you and Anthony, the two of you are merely friends. Is there perhaps someone else?” He laughed at Aziraphale’s stunned silence. Lucifer took the silence as admittance. “My, what would Crowley think if the omega he’s trying so hard to protect is nothing more than a traitorous whore?”   
  
Aziraphale continued to glare at him and Lucifer pulled out a dagger before gripping Aziraphale’s hand and forcing him to take it. “I would suggest, little omega, that you don’t let your mouth speak of more than what you’re capable of doing.” With that, he left.

Aziraphale dropped the dagger, trembling. He had to tell Crowley.

Telling Crowley proved to be easier said than done, seeing as how the alpha was avoiding him. Aziraphale spent most of King Lucifer’s visit avoiding the king’s chilling gaze and spending time with Sir Douglas.  
  
Douglas had been fine-tuning Aziraphale’s fighting skills and he had to admit, the difference was quite noticeable. He’d never had formal training aside from watching others and attempting to copy them so it was nice to have an actual teacher.   
  
If he blushed a little more than usual and his skin tingled at every touch, that was neither here nor there.   
  
“Are you going to stay and participate in the tournament?” Aziraphale asked him the day before The King was set to leave.   
  
“You didn’t hear?” Douglas asked him, frowning. “King Lucifer extended his stay to the day after the tournament festivities are over. He told Prince Crowley he was invested in the outcome.”   
  
Aziraphale paled visibly and he moved to sit on a nearby bench. “Oh.”   
  
Douglas took a seat next to him, clearly weighing what he was going to say. “I know The White Knight wins every year… do you think he’ll be making an appearance?”   
  
“He will be,” Aziraphale told him. It was unspoken between the two of them that Douglas knew who he was. Millicent and Douglas were both perceptive to alarming degrees, but thankfully he could trust their discretion.

“How will that play out if an alpha who genuinely cares for you entered the tournament?” Douglas questioned him, tilting his head in amusement. “I’m asking for a friend, of course.”  
  
“I suppose it depends on if I care for him as well,” Aziraphale murmured, his mind drifting to Crowley. He shook himself. No, if Crowley cared he would have apologized by now for his behavior. Douglas was clearly asking for himself, and he was handsome and kind… he was The Black Knight, for Heaven’s sake. Aziraphale loved him… didn’t he?   
  
“Where are you going inside that head of yours?” Douglas asked him softly.

“I suppose I’m wondering if The Black Knight will be making an appearance at the tournament,” Aziraphale told him grinning, though it didn’t reach his eyes.  
  
“In a manner of speaking, he’ll be making multiple entries,” Douglas said, always cryptic in his answers.   
  
Aziraphale frowned in confusion, “It’s one entry per knight.” They heard music as it swelled faintly from another part of the castle. It was the musicians practicing for the ball after the tournament.   
  
Douglas stood and turned to him, holding out his hand. Aziraphale took it. Strangely enough, Douglas began dancing with him, humming along with the tune. It became all too apparent that he was trying to cheer up the omega, and soon enough Aziraphale found himself giggling as Douglas swayed the two of them back and forth. “What sort of answer is that? I asked you a question, good sir, and playing at being a dashing romantic won’t distract me.”   
  
“Well, I suppose I must tell you my secret then,” Douglas mused, pulling back to look Aziraphale in the eyes. “I am The Black Knight… but I’m not the one you’re in love with.”   
  
Aziraphale blinked at him, confused. “How…” He trailed off, unsure of what he wanted to say.

“I’m a proxy of sorts. The real Black Knight is a busy man and me and another knight he trusts are built similar to him and can fit the armor when he needs a decoy to keep his cover,” Douglas explained, scanning Aziraphale’s face. “I apologize if that disappoints you.”

“I don’t suppose you could tell me his name?” Aziraphale tried, not feeling quite as disappointed as he should.  
  
“It’s not my secret to tell… however, I do think you should focus on your relationships with those close to you before you chase after a rogue knight. Hmm?”   
  
“Like you?” Aziraphale asked him, blushing at the smirk spreading across his face.

“Amongst others,” Douglas told him softly, bringing Azirpahale’s hand up to kiss the back of it tenderly. “May I join the tournament for your hand?”

Aziraphale gaped at him before gently tugging his hand and stepping away. “It’s flattering that you want me but…” He trailed off. But what?   
  
“But you want Crowley?” Douglas supplied, looking amused.   
  
“It hardly matters. My fate is sealed.” He took a steadying breath. “I know a witch who possesses psychic abilities. She erm… she told me my fate and I still don’t know what to make of it.”   
  
“What was the prophecy, if I may ask?” Douglas questioned, thoughtful.

“You can tell no one,” Aziraphale warned firmly.  
  
“Darling, if I can keep everyone else’s secrets, it’d hardly be a burden to keep one more. You can trust me.”   
  
Aziraphale blushed at the pet name before quoting the prophecy he had memorized. “‘ _Listen, O' Foolish Prince! The Knight's Black and Conquering King, two souls in one, shall deliver unto you a little death. And with it, bring the first echoes of life. Two souls in one, two hearts in one.’_ "

Douglas, surprisingly, burst out laughing.  
  
“Just what is so funny!? This is frightening for me so I think you should tell me why The Black Knight would seek to kill me!” Aziraphale demanded, miffed.

“Oh, you darling… sweet… innocent angel,” Douglas cackled. “He’s not going to kill you, he’s going to shag you. I promise it’ll be a pleasant experience. He’s got plenty of witnesses to confirm that particular claim.”  
  
“So I can’t marry Crowley?” Aziraphale asked him, frowning.   
  
“You alone can choose your fate… but I don’t think _fate_ would mind you marrying Crowley if that is what you desire.” Douglas’ eyes glittered with mirth as he regarded him. “You honestly thought I was going to kill you this entire time, didn’t you?”   
  
“Well, I suppose I just wanted to see which death it was,” Aziraphale admitted, embarrassed.

“You truly are the strangest creature,” Douglas laughed again.

Crowley jumped as the door to his office burst open and Aziraphale rushed in, closing the door behind him and locking it. “We need to talk.”  
  
“Aziraphale, I’m busy right now so if you could just-”   
  
“Your father asked me to kill you and I’ve been trying to tell you for the past week!” Aziraphale snapped. “I would hope you aren’t too busy to speak to me for just a moment before I take back my refusal and begin mulling it over!” He pulled the dagger from the inlaid pocket of his skirt and tossed it on the desk where it landed with a clatter.   
  
Crowley paled considerably as he stared at the dagger. “You refused him?”   
  
“Of course I did!”   
  
“What were you thinking!? He could’ve killed you!” Crowley snapped. He reached for a nearby bottle of brandy and took a swig, his hands trembling nearly violently.   
  
“I don’t know. I suppose I was thinking I didn’t want my alpha to die, even if you were drunk and making an arse of yourself!” Aziraphale snapped, his eyes stinging. He hadn’t noticed the possessive term he’d used to describe Crowley.

Crowley slumped, clearly barely holding it together. “Angel…”  
  
“Don’t ‘angel’ me!” Aziraphale huffed, crossing his arms. “You do not get to make every decision for me and expect me to blindly follow along. That’s not who I am and I know that’s not who you are. You’re upset about something, I can tell, but I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”   
  
“Aziraphale… it’s not that simple. If I tell you everything, you’re complicit,” Crowley warned, sounding miserable.   
  
“Right, and if I don’t assassinate you I’ll be dead regardless,” Aziraphale pointed out. “I trusted you and I held up my end of our arrangement. I think it’s time you trust me too, truly.”

Crowley sighed again before reaching down and unlocking a drawer, speaking quietly as he did so, “I originally wanted to prevent a war with Heaven in the first place, but doing so within the castle would mean assassinating both my father and older sibling and at the time, that was out of the question for me. I had to get creative. Then the invasion of Heaven happened and now I have a military to back me if I were to overthrow my father.” He pulled out his plans before standing to walk around the desk and place them in front of Aziraphale.

“Alright, and you wish to do this because…?” Aziraphale pressed.  
  
“He’s a tyrant and my people are suffering for it,” Crowley answered, with only the slightest tremor. Aziraphale realized the gravity of his plan was weighing on him.   
  
Aziraphale stepped into his space and touched his hand gently, “I’ll help.”   
  
“No, you need to leave. Please,” Crowley half begged, his voice wretched.   
  
“Why? You said before that you needed me and then you suddenly changed your mind.”   
  
“Lucifer said that if you’re not marked, mated, or married by the end of the year he would kill you,” Crowley admitted, his voice choked. “I can’t let that happen. So if you’re interested in Sir Douglas-”   
  
“ _You_ are more important to me,” Aziraphale interrupted him, reaching up to cup his cheeks firmly. He realized as he said it, how true it was. Yes, Douglas was handsome and charismatic but… Crowley was here. Crowley was right in front of him and needed him now more than ever. He realized with something like relief that choosing Crowley above all else could truly be this easy. He wondered if Crowley could maybe choose Aziraphale too.   
  
“That doesn’t change things,” Crowley nearly whispered.   
  
“Mark me then,” Aziraphale told him. “King Lucifer wouldn’t be able to tell that we’re unmated because I cover my scent.”   
  
Crowley stared at him, shocked. “Mark you?”   
  
“Yes, they will fade when not reciprocated right?” Aziraphale reasoned. “You can mark me and we’ll make sure it’s public knowledge that we’re interested in each other… like _that_ . Spin the rumor mill, so to speak.”   
  
Crowley frowned. “I can’t do that to your reputation.”   
  
“I won’t let harm come to either of us, let my reputation be damned,” Aziraphale told him firmly.

They stared at each other for a moment before Crowley sighed, leaning forward and burying his face in Aziraphale’s neck. “You deserve better than this. Better than me.”  
  
“What would you do to protect me?” Aziraphale asked him softly.   
  
“Anything,” Crowley responded, wrapping his arms around Aziraphale’s waist. Aziraphale noted distantly that they were hugging, albeit a bit awkwardly. It felt… nice. A part of him realized he wanted more but now wasn’t the time.   
  
Aziraphale sighed and ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair “Crowley?”   
  
“Yes, mark you. I know.” Crowley shuddered slightly. “Just… I’m having a moment here.”   
  
“Drinking all of that brandy can have that effect,” Aziraphale teased, slipping his fingers into Crowley’s hair and stroking him. “It’ll be easy, Crowley, and just temporary.”

Crowley pulled back as if he’d been burned. “Aziraphale… we really shouldn’t. I can’t… I can’t do that to you. Perhaps you should ask someone else.”  
  
Aziraphale studied his face for a moment, feeling something inside him shatter and cut deep into his heart. He left the room, feeling the rejection like an open wound.

Crowley looked up from his paperwork as the door opened again. He glared at Sir Douglas as he entered the room and sat in the chair on the opposite side of Crowley’s desk. “Surely you’ve heard of knocking.”  
  
“The sign-ups for the tournament are closing soon,” Sir Douglas informed him, ignoring the comment about knocking.   
  
“Yes, and?” Crowley questioned, an edge to his voice.   
  
“And I think you should sign up.” Douglas shrugged.

“I refuse to take part in such a barbaric practice that objectifies-”  
  
“Aziraphale wants you to take part.” Douglas cut him off, his voice sharp. “Are you really so dense you can’t see that?”   
  
Crowley froze, stunned. “He does?”   
  
“Yes, he does. I get that you don’t want him to feel trapped or pressured into a relationship with you but you backing away every time another alpha shows interest in him isn’t sending him the sort of message you want to be sending.” Douglas told him, not unkindly. “Aziraphale likes to feel wanted. I don’t think you understand how miserable he’s been this past week while you were acting like a dramatic prick and ignoring him. If he has to marry and you want to marry him then tell him you want to marry him. Aziraphale isn’t the type to do anything he doesn’t want to do so he wouldn’t be afraid to tell you no.”   
  
Crowley suddenly was hit with the fact that Aziraphale had called Crowley his alpha without seeming to realize it. He sighed, burying his face in his hands. “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”   
  
“Yeah, just a bit of one.” Douglas agreed. “Now, go sign up for the tournament, and if I see you drink one more drop of alcohol I’m kicking your arse. Lucifer is a lot to deal with and the alcohol helps, but you’re not the only one you need to look out for right now.”   
  
“Since when did you become such an expert on Aziraphale’s feelings?” Crowley asked him accusingly.   
  
“Since you’ve been ignoring him. I decided to attempt to court him but he’s been distracted and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why.” Douglas replied, narrowing his eyes. “Now, get the fuck up and go sign up for the tournament before I drag you there. I’m not getting rejected just so you can sit around with your head up your arse.” 

Crowley thought it over. Douglas had a point. Aziraphale deserved better than this but Crowley had to use the cards they’ve all been dealt.  
  
He thought about the dagger hidden in his desk drawer, and about how Aziraphale’s stormy blue eyes must have looked when he faced down a king and refused to be a part of his plans. His brave angel deserved the best the world had to give. Crowley realized then what he must do. Aziraphale had been so brave for him and it was time Crowley was brave for Aziraphale in turn.

Aziraphale scanned the roster with only mild interest, scoping out his competition. Sir Douglas had signed up and Aziraphale knew he was going to be a challenge but aside from him… his thoughts came to a screeching halt as he stared at a name on the list. No… he couldn’t have. He read the name again. Then a third time just to be sure.  
  
He set off down the hall, feeling something like hope until he reached Crowley’s office. He stepped in, smiling. “You signed up.”   
  
Crowley glanced up at him, sober for the first time in a week. “Yeah, I suppose I did.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, neither knowing what to say.

“Angel-” Crowley began.  
  
“Crowley-” Aziraphale spoke at the same time.

They both laughed weakly. Aziraphale gestured at him. “You go first.”  
  
“I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. What I said to you was uncalled for, all of it. You’re far kinder to me than I deserve.” Crowley told him, looking apologetic.   
  
“Well, I suppose that’s why you call me an angel, hmm?” Aziraphale joked, approaching the desk and leaning against it.   
  
Crowley absentmindedly reached up and touched Aziraphale’s waist, stroking his thumb in soft circles. “You must know… when I said I didn’t need you... that it was a lie. I need you so much more than you can imagine.”   
  
Aziraphale smiled gently at him, reaching down and touching Crowley’s cheek. He blushed as the alpha leaned into the touch. “I didn’t mean it either. I need you too.”

They just stared at each other for a few moments before Aziraphale looked away, blushing slightly. “At any rate, I’m glad to see you stopped drinking. I was rather concerned.”  
  
“My father is a lot to deal with and I didn’t cope with it well, I’m sorry,” Crowley told him, his hand still warm on Aziraphale’s waist.

Aziraphale reached into his dress pocket and pulled out a tartan handkerchief before pressing it against the scent glands on his neck. When he was done scenting the handkerchief, he passed it to the alpha, his face flaming. “It’s a token for good luck during the tournament.”  
  
“Oh, do you pass these out or-”   
  
“You’re the only one I’ve _ever_ given one to and the only one I will _ever_ be giving one to,” Aziraphale interrupted him, blushing harder. “I must go… I promised Savaric a crepe date this afternoon.”   
  
“Well erm…” Crowley trailed off, staring at the handkerchief. “Have fun.”

Aziraphale all but ran out of the room, his face bright red. Why did he just give his opponent a token of good luck? Why was he happy about Crowley entering the tournament? A small voice in the back of his head that sounded strangely like Anathema whispered that he knew why. He ignored it.  
  
He had to focus. If The White Knight was to win the tournament, Prince Crowley and Sir Douglas were going to be his biggest challenges. Sure, he had chosen Crowley in his heart but he was hardly going to throw away his win in a sexist tournament in order for the alpha to choose him. If Crowley wanted him, he was going to have to prove it. Aziraphale also privately thought he wouldn’t mind seeing Crowley’s fighting prowess up close. 

And after that… well after that, there was a king to be gotten rid of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty! This was the peak of the angst for the two of them and after this, they're going to start conquering these obstacles together! <3 Thank you for reading and I live for the comments and theories <3 <3 <3


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated in a few days! I would give yall a good excuse but the truth of the matter is that my best friend and I were binge-watching The Umbrella Academy while eating absurd amounts of Baskin-Robbins *nervous laughter*
> 
> Anyways, I offer this super long chapter as a humble peace offering <3 <3 <3

Aziraphale drew his hood over his head as he meandered his way through the lower end of the city until he reached his destination. He made his way into the tavern and waited in the corner until a pint of ale was sat in front of him. Aziraphale looked up to see the familiar face and blond curls of his accomplice for the past five years. Aubrey.   
  
The omega grinned at him and took a seat next to Aziraphale unprompted and rested his chin on his hands. “I suppose this is about the tournament?”   
  
“Obviously,” Aziraphale responded, his voice neutral. “Will you be able to attend?”   
  
“In a manner of speaking,” Aubrey responded, holding out his hand. “Where do I need to meet Anathema?”   
  
“Servants entrance at the back of the castle. I have a knight helping us this time and he’ll escort you through the gates. His name is Savaric.” Aziraphale placed the purse of gold coins in his outstretched palm.   
  
“Is he an alpha?” Aubrey asked him.   
  
Aziraphale rolled his eyes before standing up to leave. “Yes. A happily married one.”   
  
“Are they both handsome?” Aubrey pressed further.   
  
Aziraphale shot him a withering look before leaving. He liked Aubrey and trusted his discretion, but the boy was a shameless flirt.   


The first round of the tournament was to be a melee. The last eight standing from there would go on to compete in the joust. From there, the four winners of the joust would fight in one-on-one battles against each other with the remaining two competitors showing down in a grand final duel.   
  
Aziraphale nervously ate his breakfast, eyeing Crowley and Douglas both as they joked and exchanged competitive banter.    
  
“When I win, does that mean you’ll stop being a pretentious arse, or what else will I have to do?” Douglas responded to one of Crowley’s taunts.   
  
“When you  _ win _ ?” Crowley repeated, laughing. “Oh, oh. That’s a good one.”

“Well, my only  _ real _ competition is The White Knight,” Douglas quipped, winking at Aziraphale conspiratorially.   
  
Crowley rolled his eyes, “Assuming you make it past the jousting round. You’re terrible at jousting.”   
  
“Oh, but I’m the better swordsman,” Douglas replied smugly.   
  
Aziraphale rolled his eyes and excused himself from breakfast. He turned to Crowley before he left. “Good luck.”   
  
Crowley grinned at him and winked. “I already have it.” He patted his coat pocket where Aziraphale could see the tartan handkerchief, making Aziraphale blush.   
  


When he made it back to his room, Anathema, Aubrey, and Savaric were already there. Aubrey and Aziraphale didn’t look so much alike that they could pass for the same person. But their coloring and build were similar enough that with enough makeup, Aubrey could pass for Aziraphale while up in the stands. He had his own private booth, after all, for being the ‘prize.’ The private booth was originally intended to keep the knights away from the omega for which they were competing, but now Aziraphale used it as another tool in pulling off his deceptive victory as The White Knight every year.

Aubrey was flirting with Savaric, who blushed furiously. Aziraphale rolled his eyes at the flirtatious omega’s antics before speaking up. “I told you that he is married.”   
  
Savaric pointed at Aziraphale, still bright red. “He’s right. His name is Gilbert and I love him very much.”   
  
Rolling his eyes, Aziraphale removed his jewelry before putting on Aubrey’s peasant clothing and allowing Savaric to escort him out of the palace without being noticed. The two of them parted ways at the gates and Aziraphale made his way to Newt’s father’s blacksmith shop that bordered the village and forest.   
  
Newt looked up from where he was cleaning up some equipment and grinned before standing and making a sweeping gesture towards the back room. “Your armor awaits.”   


Aziraphale stood in his full armor, eyeing his competition as they lined up for the melee. Crowley was wearing extremely lightweight black armor, indicating his fighting style mostly focused on speed and agility. He frowned. That may be a problem for him. Sir Douglas wore medium weight armor, indicating he had a more well-rounded fighting style. He could work with that, assuming he used the skills Douglas had taught him over the past week.

A councilman walked between the two lines of knights, reminding everyone that permanent maiming and killing were against the rules of the tournament before giving the all-clear for the melee to begin.   
  
Melees tended to be nearly as chaotic as the battlefield but Aziraphale luckily had some experience there. He disarmed the nearest knight before knocking him off his feet, disqualifying him. He moved on quickly to the next.    
  
The numbers were dwindling fast and Aziraphale told himself to focus, that victory still wasn’t guaranteed. He encountered a particularly tough opponent and became so focused, he was almost blindsided by another knight who had intended to take advantage of his distraction. There was a clang of swords colliding and Crowley was there, disarming Aziraphale’s attacker and knocking him back.    
  
Aziraphale didn’t allow himself to be distracted and took advantage of his opponent’s confusion at Crowley saving him to disarm and knock him to the ground. When Aziraphale looked up, there were only eight knights left standing.   
  
He stared at Crowley and Crowley stared back for a moment before sheathing his sword. “Pay attention, mate. You have actual competition this year.” There was a strange edge to his voice, but Aziraphale didn’t have much time to ponder on it before the regent stalked away.   
  
Douglas, who was one of the remaining eight, took off his helmet and gave Aziraphale an impressed look before turning to speak to Crowley.

Aziraphale won his jousting match quite easily, seeing as his opponent was inexperienced and young. Lucky break, he supposed. He went to stand at the sidelines with the other knights as Sir Douglas rode out onto the field. A familiar voice spoke up next to him. “Sir Douglas is a formidable opponent but he’s god-awful at jousting.”   
  
Crowley didn’t seem to mind his reticence, in fact, he seemed to be expecting it. Maybe his friends had told him about The White Knight’s complete silence. “I have a question, and you can either nod or shake your head or whatever… but if you win this year, will you stay for Aziraphale?”   
  
Aziraphale blushed but shook his head. Where had this question come from?   
  
“Well, then either you’re a right bastard who feels the need to feel superior to others, or you support Aziraphale’s right to choose who he wants to be with. For the sake of respecting a fellow knight, I’ll assume the latter.”   
  
Aziraphale tilted his head in acknowledgment and their conversation ended there.

Douglas was nearly knocked off his horse but his opponent got cocky over his almost victory, and Douglas quickly took advantage of it to take him by surprise and knock him off his own horse.

Douglas dismounted and removed his helmet to shake his hair out of its topknot causing a cheer to rise up, mostly from the women in the crowd. Crowley rolled his eyes. “Cocky bastard knows he looks bloody perfect.

Aziraphale huffed in amusement at the remark as Crowley’s name was called for his turn.   
  
Douglas approached him as Crowley trotted his horse out onto the field. “Enjoying the show?”   
  
Aziraphale nodded, grinning and making a note to tell Douglas what Crowley had said the next time they were alone.

They watched as the joust kicked off and Crowley’s opponent lashed out. Crowley swung halfway off his horse and shoved his lance upwards, knocking his opponent off his perch with expert precision. The match had only lasted seconds.   
  
Aziraphale gaped at Crowley as he dismounted to the sound of thunderous applause. He watched as the alpha barely paid attention to the cheering and looked up at the stands where Aubrey sat as a decoy. Oh… oh, that was actually quite sweet that his friend cared what Aziraphale thought. He made a mental note to complement his performance at dinner.   
  
Douglas chuckled. “Bastard’s always been good at riding.”   
  
He could only nod in agreement, wondering which of his friends he would face the next day. 

  
Aziraphale walked past the table of knights in the mess hall alongside Anathema and Newt, ignoring the knights’ flirtatious banter sent his way. They made it to the head of the table and Aziraphale grinned at Crowley and Douglas as he sat down. “That was an interesting performance from both of you.”   
  
“Do you use the word ‘interesting’ because you’re speaking of Douglas’ jousting match? Because I did bloody amazing,” Crowley quipped. Aziraphale rolled his eyes as Douglas reached over and smacked his friend on the back of the head.

Thurstan spoke up from where they sat on Douglas’s other side, “That’s a strange way of saying you protected your opponent because you fancy him despite it greatly impacting your chances of winning.”   
  
Crowley’s face colored and Aziraphale felt a knot in his stomach. Who was Thurstan talking about? 

The silence was interrupted by an alpha calling out to Millicent as she made her way across the mess hall. “Hey, pretty thing! What are you doing here? Are you lost?”    
  
Millicent stopped walking and turned around to face him. Thurstan muttered a curse under their breath before standing up from the table.   
  
“I assure you, sir, I’m not lost. I have just as much right to be here as any other knight,” she told him stiffly. She moved to turn around and he reached out to caress her hair.   


She quickly whirled on him and punched him square in the nose, knocking him to the ground. “Don’t fucking touch me.”   
  
Thurstan made it to her and grabbed her arms gently, making a soothing noise. “It’s alright, Milly. Just ignore these pricks.”   
  
“Stupid bitch should’ve been grateful the alpha even noticed her with how she’s dressed. The only thing making her even remotely desirable as omega is her long hair!” A knight snapped from nearby, apparently the other’s friend.   
  
Millicent eyed him for a moment before stepping out of Thurstan’s reach and grabbing her dagger. Before anyone could react she had reached up and cut her hair off at the neck. She threw the clump of it into the alpha’s soup. “There. You now have my  _ desirable _ bits.”   
  
The knight moved to stand up but Thurstan stepped in between them, their hand on the hilt of their sword as a clear threat. “I would suggest, sir knight, that you leave the omega alone before I truly lose my patience.” The knight sat down reluctantly, glaring at Millicent over Thurstan’s shoulder.   
  
She didn’t seem to care as she blew him a snide kiss and then walked the rest of the way to where the rest of the group sat. She sat between Anathema and Aziraphale, grinning at Crowley and Douglas, who both wore matching judgemental looks aimed at Millicent. Aziraphale distantly wondered if that was what it was like to have older siblings that actually cared. 

Thurstan made it back to the table next and sat down with a weary sigh. “Must you do that? Just ignore them. They’re just pissy because they lost at the melee and jousting rounds today.”

“Alphas can be awful during the tournament,” Anathema agreed. “Usually Aziraphale is the one to have to deal with all of them and it’s never a pleasant experience.”   
  
Gilbert, surprisingly, spoke up, “I actually enjoyed the show. Short hair suits you.” Savaric pointed at his husband, mouth full, and nodded in agreement.   
  
“Thank you, Gilbert! So glad to see someone on my side,” Millicent said, glaring at Thurstan.

Thurstan snorted to themself but said nothing.   
  
Aziraphale grinned at her. “Short hair really does suit you quite well.”    
  
“Thank you, love,” Millicent grinned back at him.   
  
Crowley muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, “these two will be the death of me one of these days.”

Douglas chuckled, apparently having heard whatever he’d said, as he looked around at their friend group. “It’s nice to have the whole family together, wouldn’t you think?”   
  
Everyone in said ‘family’ either gave him dubious or scathing looks and he ignored it as he took an innocent sip of his wine.

Aziraphale startled from his sleep to a hand touching his shoulder. He quickly reacted, grabbing his attacker’s arm and flipping them before straddling them and grabbing them by the throat. He blinked as he recognized his attacker. “Crowley?”   
  
Crowley squirmed slightly underneath him, his voice hoarse and breathless. “Not that I don’t find this position enjoyable but… I’m having a bit of trouble breathing.”

Aziraphale immediately released his throat and climbed off him, blushing. “What are you doing here? It’s late.”

“I couldn’t sleep and I was wondering if you wanted to go on a late-night picnic? I didn’t mean to frighten you,” He cleared his throat. “You’re surprisingly strong, by the way…”   
  
“I wasn’t frightened,” Aziraphale lied, blushing and ignoring the comment about his strength. “Isn’t a late-night picnic a bit inappropriate? We already spend entirely too much time alone together without a chaperone.”   
  
“We have and no funny business has happened so I suppose we’re alright,” Crowley winked at him, his voice dripping temptation. “I packed wine and crêpes.”   
  
Aziraphale sighed before his lips twitched into a tiny smile. “I do like crêpes.”   
  
Crowley seemed spurred on by the positive reaction. “So? May I tempt you to a picnic?”   
  
Aziraphale grinned at him. “Temptation accomplished. Just let me get dressed.”   
  
Crowley held up a duffle bag, grinning. “I brought disguises!”

Aziraphale wondered to himself what he thought he was doing, sneaking out with an alpha in the middle of the night while wearing peasant clothes. Trousers! He was wearing trousers! It was most inappropriate. He’d never dressed like this save for when he went as The White Knight.   
  
They made their way into the city to find the tournament festivities still in full swing, despite the late hour. Crowley reminded him to keep his hood drawn as they walked amongst the festival-goers to look at the various booths.

Aziraphale bought matching necklaces for Newt and Anathema, a hair clip for Millicent that would suit her now short hair, and a green broach for Savaric that suited his same-color coat delightfully. Crowley chuckled as he decided to purchase a silver pocket watch for Douglas. “You really like shopping, don’t you?”   
  
“It’s quite embarrassing but I’ve never been shopping before,” Aziraphale told him softly. “I’ve hardly been out of the castle grounds save for when I snuck-” He broke off, blushing.   
  
“Oh, you snuck out? Naughty angel.” Crowley chuckled again as Aziraphale’s face colored. “Don’t be embarrassed, everyone does it once in a while.”   
  
Aziraphale’s blushing wasn’t from embarrassment, which was all the more distressing. ‘Naughty angel!?’ Who called someone that!?

Crowley had already walked away and Aziraphale didn’t think much of it as he walked along to the next booth. He paused as he saw a silver brooch with an engraving of a serpent. He purchased it quickly, hoping Crowley hadn’t noticed.    
  
Crowley made it back to him just as he completed his purchase. He put a hand on the small of Aziraphale’s back before leaning down to whisper in his ear. “Now, about that picnic?”

They made it to the forest where Aziraphale liked to frequent to picnic but instead of going to the usual spot, Crowley led him in a different direction until they came upon a lake. Crowley set down the picnic basket before pulling out a blanket and laying it out. He then lit a pre-made campfire he had apparently set up beforehand, meaning this picnic had been planned.    
  
Aziraphale sat with him, noticing that this seemed a bit… romantic. He cleared his throat. “So erm… why did you want to picnic with me so late?”   
  
Crowley shrugged as he pulled two goblets out of his basket and a bottle of wine. “I suppose I just wanted to spend time with you before the tournament tomorrow.”   
  
“What about the knight?” Aziraphale asked him bluntly.   
  
Crowley nearly dropped the wine bottle. He laughed weakly, sounding slightly hoarse, “Oh that? Well, you see, I do actually fancy someone but it’s not a thing and um… well, I suppose I’m just not sure they’re who I thought they were anymore-”   
  
“You helped someone? Do you not want to win?” Aziraphale asked him, his pride wounded. He thought that Crowley may have fancied him, at least a little bit. He must’ve been wrong.   
  
“No! I do want to win but I don’t want to win you if that makes sense?” Crowley asked him nervously.   
  
“If you didn’t want me you didn’t have to join the tournament. The White Knight or Sir Douglas could’ve won just fine without you there.”   
  
Crowley suddenly grabbed his leg and pulled him close, similar to their earlier position in the infirmary. Aziraphale blushed as Crowley eyed him intensely. “I never said I didn’t want you.”   
  
“You said you didn’t want to win me-”   
  
“I don’t want to win you as if you’re a prize but the thought of not wanting you is preposterous. You’re beautiful and witty and so incredibly brave… then there are the bits with you being a bit of a badass for mysterious reasons you have yet to reveal to me.”   
  
Aziraphale blushed at the praise before smirking slightly, “If you wanted me you could’ve just asked me if I fancied you as well. As for the last part… well, I suppose a little mystery doesn’t hurt but I assure you, I’m quite boring.”   
  
“I don’t think so,” Crowley murmured. 

“If you didn’t want to win me as a prize… why did you join the tournament?” Aziraphale asked him, attempting to change the subject.   
  
Crowley looked confused. “Douglas said you wanted me to.”   
  
“I never said any such thing!” Aziraphale huffed. “Not that I wasn’t happy with you… you know, wanting me.” He added the last part while looking away, pretending to be interested in a nearby tree.

Crowley released his leg with a frustrated groan, breaking the moment. “Bloody conniving bastard- You know what? I’m not letting him ruin our picnic, nope. I’ll just kick his arse tomorrow. He better pray to his higher power that he and I aren’t put against one another.”   
  
Aziraphale rolled his eyes, reaching for the wine Crowley had gotten distracted away from to pour them both a glass while his friend laid out their food. “Why do the two of you fight so much?”   
  
“He and Millicent are more like siblings to me and I suppose that’s just how we are. I love Douglas, I assure you, and the feeling is mutual.” Crowley smiled to himself as he spoke.   
  
“That’s sweet. I suppose it’s the same for Anathema and me. My siblings were always so rude but Anathema always looked out for me despite our difference in ranking.”   


“Anathema seems like a wonderful friend to you,” Crowley told him, sounding genuine. “Many aren’t lucky enough to have a friend like that. Though I hope you know that Millicent and Savaric both adore you to bits and speak so highly of you, I’m concerned I may have to remind Millicent that you don’t seem to fancy women and that Savaric needs to remember he’s married.”   
  
Aziraphale laughed out loud at that. “Oh hush, I adore both of them as well. I also adore you and Douglas.”   
  
“Alright, but who’s your favorite? There isn’t a wrong answer unless your answer is Douglas,” Crowley winked at Aziraphale as he passed him a crepe.   
  
Aziraphale smirked at him, attempting to come off as more confident than he actually felt. “Who do I adore the most? Well, I suppose my being here answers that question.”

Crowley’s face colored slightly and he flopped back on the blanket, taking a bite of an apple and saying nothing.   
  
The more wine they drank, the more the conversation flowed. Aziraphale eventually noticed that they had moved closer throughout their conversation until they were leaning against each other while Aziraphale giggled at Crowley’s rant about sea creatures he’d seen on a trip to Gaia.    
  
Crowley finally concluded his story without ever actually making a point. Aziraphale frowned. “What was the point again?”   
  
“Dolphins. That’s my point.” Crowley told him confidently before taking another swig of wine.    
  
Aziraphale giggled, burying his face in Crowley’s arm. “That doesn’t make any sense.”   
  
“‘Course it does!” Crowley defended, laughing as well.   
  
“It doesn’t!” Aziraphale insisted.   
  
Crowley whirled on him and pinned him down. Aziraphale barely had time to react before he began tickling his sides.   
  
Aziraphale laughed, batting him away. “Stop! Alright! You made sense!”   


Crowley pulled back, looking smug. “So glad you can be reasonable under a bit of pressure.”   
  
“You’re a master negotiator for sure,” Aziraphale responded. He wiggled underneath Crowley’s hold, blushing. “Perhaps it’s getting late? You have the tournament tomorrow.”   
  
“Right… do you erm… do you want me to win?” Crowley asked him, not moving yet.   
  
Aziraphale stared up at him, how the firelight flickered, and illuminated his crimson hair and made his brown eyes look so much warmer. How could Aziraphale look at this beautiful and achingly genuine man and not fancy him? Did he love him? No, not yet but… but there was always time.   
  
Aziraphale reached up to caress his cheek. “I probably shouldn’t be saying this to you, considering it’s a blatant display of favoritism and such but… if an alpha won the tournament, I’d want that alpha to be you.” There, not a lie. The White Knight was obviously still his number one choice because of autonomous reasons but if he, an omega, were to lose, he wouldn’t mind if he lost to Crowley.

Crowley genuinely smiled at that, a bit drunk and crooked, but it was quite adorable nonetheless. “I’m glad to hear that. I was under the impression you weren’t the least bit attracted to me.”   
  
“I suppose I have a casual sort of attraction to you,” Aziraphale admitted, smiling at Crowley’s mock pout. “Crowley… what do you plan to do if you win?”   
  
To his shock, Crowley giggled. “It’s a surprise, angel.”   
  
“You better not be up to something naughty or mischievous,” Aziraphale warned, laughing.   
  
“I will neither confirm nor deny. Do you trust me? That everything will be alright?” Crowley asked him, sobering slightly.   
  
“Of course I do,” Aziraphale told him, sitting up slightly to be in his space, their noses nearly brushing. “You’re my king. How could I not trust you?”   
  
Crowley’s eyes flickered to his lips then back again, molten. “I’m not a king.”   
  
“You will be, one day,” Aziraphale whispered. “I just know it. You’ll be an amazing king.”   
  
“Dangerous words while my father is in power,” Crowley told him, frowning.   
  
“ _ I promise on my faith that I will in the future be faithful to my king, never cause him harm, and will observe my homage to him completely against all persons in good faith and without deceit. _ " Aziraphale recited an oath of fealty without missing a beat.    
  
Crowley visibly shivered, clearly barely holding himself back from… whatever this was. “You know, those sorts of oaths require a kiss to seal it...”   
  
“Then I suppose you should get on with it?” Aziraphale suggested, raising his eyebrows.   
  
Crowley leaned forward slightly and Aziraphale closed his eyes. He had expected to be ravished but instead, Crowley tenderly kissed his cheek before pulling back slightly and whispering, “We’re drunk, Aziraphale. I should take you home.”   


Aziraphale and Crowley ate quietly the next morning at breakfast. There was no awkward tension, but both of them did share headaches from the amount of wine they had drunk the night before. Douglas eyed them, smirking. “Fun night?”   
  
“Don’t know what you mean,” Crowley lied. “I sleep like a wee baby.”

“Oh, I was just excited to see the end of the tournament and it kept me up,” Aziraphale lied as well. He fought back a wince as he felt a familiar sort of cramping in his abdomen. He thought to himself that it must be the wine from last night affecting him. His heat wasn’t due for another three weeks.   
  
Douglas scoffed and rolled his eyes, clearly amused.

Aziraphale huffed to himself as he realized his first match was against Douglas while Crowley was paired up with the other knight of the final four. He stood alongside Douglas as Crowley’s match started up. “Do you think he’ll win?” he asked quietly, knowing no one was around to hear.   
  
“I think so, though he was disappointed I wasn’t his first opponent for some reason. Care to explain?” Douglas asked, sounding amused.

“You allegedly told him that I told you that I wanted him to join the tournament?” Aziraphale asked him, annoyed. “You had the poor man so confused.”   
  
“And yet he could very well win, you were happy with his joining, and he took you on a disguised moonlight stroll last night. The two of you were gone for hours.” Douglas told him teasingly. “I do believe I did the two of you a favor.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes but said nothing as Crowley walked onto the field with his opponent. Douglas turned to him. “What did happen last night?”   
  
“I don’t believe I like your tone,” Aziraphale huffed, turning to him. “We just did a bit of shopping and had a picnic.”

“Oh sounds lovely,” Douglas chuckled. “Anything else?”   
  
“I asked him which knight he fancied but he didn’t seem to want to tell me,” Aziraphale told him, pouting.   
  
Douglas seemed to be debating what he was about to say and Aziraphale watched him expectantly as he finally responded, “I believe he’s in this tournament to prove something to you. He took you out last night, not anyone else. I suppose that he may not tell you who he fancied because it no longer matters if he’s chosen you.”   
  
“But-” He broke off as a cheer rose up. He turned to the field to see Crowley raising his arms and waving at the overjoyed audience while his opponent laid unconscious on the ground. His fight hadn’t even lasted a minute.   
  
Aziraphale paled, realizing he hadn’t seen how Crowley fought. If he were to beat Douglas and get into the final round against Crowley, he’d essentially be going in blind.

Douglas seemed to catch on to what Aziraphale was thinking as he muttered, “oops.” It most definitely didn’t sound genuine, making Aziraphale wonder what game Douglas was playing at. “I’ll see you on the field, darling. Do your best and don’t be afraid to give it your all. I won’t go easy on you because you’re an omega.”   
  
“I wouldn’t ever accuse you of doing such a thing,” Aziraphale chuckled. He frowned as he got yet another stomach cramp. It was gone as fast as it came.

Aziraphale faced Douglas on the field, eyeing him. Douglas was a well-rounded fighter and from what he remembered from his training, was left-handed. Douglas probably outmatched him in strength so Aziraphale knew he had to make up for that with precision and be sure to not make too many mistakes. He could do this. He had to.   
  
The bell sounded and they rushed at each other, immediately connecting swords and ricocheting back with a loud clang. Aziraphale was right, Douglas was strong. He could work with this, though.   
  
He deftly blocked Douglas’ attack to his left before parrying and attempting to rush his right. Douglas suddenly switched sword hands and deflected his attack as if it were nothing.   
  
Aziraphale barely avoided a counter-attack before he put some distance between the two of them, realizing that Douglas knew how he fought just as well as he knew how Douglas fought… this had to change. He had to change.   
  
He approached again and attacked Douglas's right and allowed it to be deflected before feigning a counter. Douglas moved to block it and Aziraphaled suddenly spun around him, imitating the cocky flare of The Black Knight, before knocking Douglas’ feet out from under him and causing him to drop his weapon. Douglas immediately rolled to grab his sword but Aziraphale was faster. He kicked his friend’s blade away before pointing the end of his own sword at Douglas’s neck and tapping his chin, tilting his head expectantly.   
  
Douglas’s helmet had been knocked off and he looked proud as he raised his hands in surrender. “I yield. Good job.”

Aziraphale faced Crowley next and noticed Crowley’s face seemed to change from shock and then to hesitation before turning to something that looked like resolve. Crowley put on his helmet, speaking as he did so. “No hard feelings mate, just have to protect someone I care about. I hope you can understand.”   
  
Aziraphale briefly wondered if Crowley said that to every opponent or if he just felt the need to be polite to The White Knight for leaving Aziraphale alone. He didn’t have much time to ponder over it before the bell sounded and the fight was on.   
  
Crowley was fast. Frighteningly so. He also had a dramatic flair to his fighting that was reminiscent of The Black Knight, strangely enough, though it wasn’t quite the same. The style was there but bubbling underneath seemed to be a fiery resolve he’d never seen in The Black Knight.   
  
Aziraphale was barely fast enough to deflect Crowley’s attack before the next one came. He changed up his fighting style then, attempting to emulate the agility training Douglas had taught him. He whirled and spun to avoid Crowley’s attacks and it seemed to be working.    
  
He feigned an attack and Crowley moved to block before Aziraphale switched up on him. This had worked on Douglas so- His thoughts cut off abruptly as Crowley jumped… over him. Oh fuck.   
  
He heard the swoosh of the sword as it flew at his throat before it abruptly stopped, deadly close to the skin of it. Crowley mockingly tapped his neck with the flat side of his blade. “Hands up mate, you’re dead.”   
  
Aziraphale reluctantly lifted his hands as a universal gesture of yielding. This was his first loss at one of these tournaments. Where had Crowley learned to do that!? He was suddenly reminded of Millicent’s acrobatic maneuvers and realized she must’ve either taught him or they had trained together.   
  
If Aziraphale were being honest… it was quite alluring in a strange way, that Crowley could defeat him in a fight. He couldn’t say that about many.

He moved to walk off the field as the crowd cheered for Crowley. He turned back to see Crowley ignoring the cheers, all the cocky arrogance from yesterday gone as he faced the booth where King Lucifer and Beezlebub sat. Crowley threw his sword and helmet to the dirt, staring directly at his father as he spoke. “The omega is legally mine by the law of the tournament and I can do what I wish with him.” The crowd stopped cheering, stunned into silence. Crowley gave the crowd a stern once-over before turning to the booth where the fake Aziraphale sat. He then turned back to King Lucifer. “As his alpha, I hereby grant him the same rights as an alpha. The most important of which being the choice of whom he marries. If any of you bastards don’t like it, you can kindly fuck off.” He bowed, clearly in a sarcastic manner, at the king before striding off the field.    
  
The crowd erupted into thunderous cheers, chanting Crowley’s name. Crowley paused at the gate, eyeing Aziraphale for a moment. He looked like he wanted to say something before he closed his mouth and tensed his jaw. He walked away without a backward glance. Aziraphale was stunned. What was his problem with The White Knight!?   


Aziraphale changed out with Aubrey and eyed his wardrobe as Anathema bustled about, already dressed for the ball celebrating the end of the tournament. He had dismissed his maid for the past few days to keep his privacy and Anathema had volunteered to help him in her stead. He cleared his throat shyly, “Crowley and I… I think we have an understanding of sorts.”   
  
Anathema paused before smirking and sitting on the bed and leaning back, looking entirely too smug. “Is that so?”   
  
“Yes… we went out the other night and he kissed me. On the cheek, of course, but it was… it was nice.”   
  
Anathema smiled, genuinely happy for him. “Do you care for him?”   
  
“I do. I think I may be falling for him, especially after today. I assumed he was going to win my hand and just marry me but… he stood up to his father for me.” Aziraphale blushed at the memory. Crowley was so endlessly brave and kind. Aziraphale truly did need to stop chasing his fantasy of The Black Knight and focus on what was right in front of him.   


“I knew I liked him,” Anathema mused.

“In any case… I suppose I wanted to wear one of my Hell-made gowns and I want it to be… alluring I suppose,” Aziraphale blushed as he added the last part quietly. He frowned as he felt a familiar sort of cramping in his abdomen. They went away and he brushed it off. This couldn’t be his heat. He had always tracked them carefully and he’d never miscalculated something that important before.

Anathema smirked, looking oddly triumphant. “I know just the thing.”

Aziraphale was nervous as he looked in the mirror a few minutes later. The silvery-blue gown Anathema had chosen for him was backless with a plunging neckline and sheer top. The top was embroidered with white flowers strategically placed to cover his nipples and only that. Anathema also convinced him to wear a necklace Crowley had bought him, as well as makeup. “I don’t know…”   
  
“Crowly is going to faint,” Anathema assured him.   
  
“From my complete lack of propriety, perhaps,” Aziraphale quipped, blushing.

He was announced as he entered the ballroom and blushed as everyone fell silent at the sight of him. Crowley quickly broke away from his conversation with Sir Eric before approaching Aziraphale, looking stunned. “You look beautiful…”   
  
“Thank you,” Aziraphale responded, taking his outstretched arm as the chatter and music in the ballroom picked up again. “I was rather nervous about wearing it but you can consider this me… paying  _ homage _ so to speak. Both the gown and necklace were gifts from you, of course.”   
  
Crowley blushed slightly but pulled him into a dance, suave as ever. “You’ll be the death of me, angel.”

Aziraphale felt his abdomen twinge at that as he leaned into Crowley’s touch, nearly melting at the warm hand on his bare back. “So I’ve heard.”

They continued to dance and Aziraphale began to notice they were backing towards a side door of the ballroom. “Whatever are you doing, Crowley?”   
  
“My dad’s pissed at me and he’s glowering at us so I think we should make a break for it. Perhaps to drink wine and discuss literature in the library?”    
  
Aziraphale giggled. “I suppose I decided to look like this for nothing?”   
  
“Oh, trust me. I’ll admire you enough to make up for the lack of a ball,” Crowley assured him, winking, as they approached the open side door.   
  
“Well then, I should admit that I hate these balls. There are always too many people and you know how I despise people,” Aziraphale told him conspiratorially, grinning when Crowley looked amused and whirled him through the doorway.   


They were only one glass of wine in when Aziraphale recorked the bottle. “I do believe that’s enough for the night.”   
  
Crowley burst out laughing, looking up from his book. “Agreed! Don’t want a repeat of this morning, do we?”   


Aziraphale shifted until he sat closer to Crowley and preened internally as the alpha absentmindedly wrapped an arm around him while reading. Aziraphale closed his own book and nuzzled at Crowley’s neck. “Crowley…”   
  
Crowley immediately closed his book and turned to him, smiling softly. “Yes, angel?”   
  
“Thank you, for standing up for me… it meant more than you could imagine,” Aziraphale told him softly. “I thought you had joined the tournament to marry me so I didn’t have to marry someone horrid instead but… what you did was incredible.”   
  
“I had to, for you. Aziraphale, I could never live with myself if you were forced to marry me or anyone else.”   
  
Aziraphale leaned in until their noses were nearly brushing as he whispered, “Do you want me?”   
  
Crowley furrowed his brows. “Of course I-”   
  
Aziraphale kissed him. It was clumsy and inexperienced but he meant it. He noticed Crowley had stiffened and wasn’t reciprocating and he pulled back, blushing. “I’m sorry-”   
  
Crowley lurched forward and pulled Aziraphale into a kiss, patiently guiding Aziraphale’s lips against his own. Aziraphale sighed against Crowley’s mouth and the omega wrapped his arms loosely around his alpha’s neck as the two of them sunk down into the couch, melting against one another.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, they quit being stupid... kinda :'D


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for my absence! Work has me busy due to a promotion so my updates may be weekly now, rather than whenever I find the time lol Anyways I hope yall enjoy!
> 
> CW for kinda(?) homophobia? Idk what its supposed to be called when someone is mean to alpha/alpha and omega/omega pairings but that happens in this chapter

Aziraphale kissed him. It was clumsy and inexperienced but he meant it. He noticed that Crowley had stiffened, and wasn’t reciprocating. Blushing, Aziraphale pulled back, nervously trying to play it off. “I’m sorry-”   
  
Crowley lurched forward and pulled Aziraphale into a kiss, patiently guiding Aziraphale’s lips against his own. Aziraphale sighed against Crowley’s mouth and the omega wrapped his arms loosely around his alpha’s neck as the two of them sunk down into the couch, melting against one another.   


The kisses were chaste at first but soon turned passionate. Crowley broke away for air and Aziraphale made a pained whining noise and began pushing the alpha’s coat off his shoulders.    
  
Crowley quickly shed his coat and began kissing Aziraphale once more, swiping his tongue against Aziraphale’s lower lip to request entrance as the omega’s hands roamed down his sides to begin untucking his shirt from his trousers. Aziraphale opened his mouth and Crowley internally preened at the noise the omega made at the feeling of Crowley’s tongue against his own. He smelled something sweet and familiar in the air but ignored it in favor of pleasuring the angel beneath him.   
  
His hands skimmed up Aziraphale’s curves and then across his collarbones before pushing the sleeves of the dress down to reveal two rosy nipples, already hardened. Crowley swiped his thumb over one sensitive bud and swallowed the noise Aziraphale made against his mouth before pulling away. 

Aziraphale whined again but was cut off as Crowley’s tongue flicked across his nipple, turning into a low moan instead as he arched his back to push against Crowley’s mouth. “Crowley! Crowley! Crowley!” 

Crowley pulled back with a small chuckle, moving one hand to lightly pinch the neglected nipple as his other hand gripped Aziraphale’s thick thigh. “That’s my name, angel.” He didn’t wait for a response before resuming his ministrations. He felt Aziraphale began to buck against him and he pushed back, hard enough so his bulge could be felt through all the layers of Aziraphale’s skirt.    
  
Aziraphale began babbling then. “Crowley, please! Please fuck me! Knot me! Breed me! Alpha-”

Crowley cut him off with a kiss, confused at the strange behavior but considerably more aroused. The sweet smell was growing heavier in the air and Crowley buried his face against Aziraphale’s neck to nose at his scent glands as he pulled Aziraphale’s skirt up for better access. He wasn’t going to fuck his angel. Not yet. It was still too soon and Crowley had a feeling there were so many ways he could learn to take him apart as their relationship strengthened... Never before had he wanted to wait for anyone, only seeking immediate gratification. With Aziraphale, it was different. He wanted to take care of him, take things slow, treat him with all the gentleness and kindness his omega deserved.    
  
So no, there wouldn’t be any fucking tonight… but Crowley had ways to get around that while making sure his angel was satisfied. He finished pushing Aziraphale’s gown up and pulled back. “Hold your skirt up so it’s out of the way. I’ll make you feel good, alright?”   
  
Aziraphale blushed but nodded as Crowley wiggled further back on the couch before picking Azirpahale’s thighs up over his shoulder. Crowley groaned at the sight of slick soaking through Aziraphale’s modest knickers and without thinking, licked at the wet patch. Aziraphale shouted in surprise and moved one hand to grip at Crowley’s hair while the other kept his skirt in place as he babbled. “Pl-Please! Please! Please!”   
  
Crowley lapped at the spot again, inhaling deeply as the sweet smell invaded his senses.  _ Aziraphale’s scent _ , he realized. He smelled so good… tasted so sweet…. Almost like…   
  
The alpha jerked back as if he’d been burned, ignoring the omega’s whining as he ran to the balcony to breathe the fresh air. Aziraphale was in heat. This wasn’t good.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale called out to him, his voice sounding nearly like a sob.   
  
Crowley scrubbed a hand over his face and took another deep breath before walking back into the library. “It’s alright, angel. You’re in heat and I needed to calm down for a moment.” He released soothing pheromones and touched Aziraphale’s neck, smiling as Azirpahale calmed down. Crowley then helped Aziraphale up onto shaking legs and adjusted his dress. “Good boy, now let’s go to your room.”   
  
Aziraphale made a happy little noise at that and picked Crowley’s coat up off the floor before putting it on. Crowley sighed, holding out his hand for Aziraphale to take. The omega was clearly under the impression that Crowley was going to stay and help with his heat, but unfortunately, he couldn’t. No need to upset him yet, Crowley would tell him when they got to his room. 

Turns out, making one’s way through a castle during a ball while guiding a hyper-aroused omega who couldn’t stop being handsy… was more difficult than Crowley had expected.   
  
“Angel, I can’t walk while you’re gripping my arse,” he muttered, both flattered by the attention but firm in keeping his intentions for the evening pure.   
  
“A shame,” Aziraphale purred, releasing him, “I’ve always thought your arse was rather cute.”   
  
“Aziraphale!” Crowley gasped before laughing, shocked by the other prince’s words. 

“It is. Just like the rest of you. You’re so beautiful for an alpha… and kind… and strong… I want a baby.” Aziraphale said the last part so casually, Crowley nearly tripped over his own feet.   
  
“Ngk- what!?” He choked out, stopping to stare at Aziraphale.   
  
Aziraphale pouted. “I want a baby.”   
  
“Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news but you’re not getting one tonight,” Crowley told him firmly, pulling Aziraphale along. They were almost to his room.

  
“Why not?” Aziraphale asked petulantly.    
  
“Because you’re not in a position to consent,” Crowley was still firm. “Not to mention, your judgment is currently clouded by hormones that tell you what you want is to be bred, when you and I both know that’s not what you  _ truly  _ want. If you still want a baby while you’re not in heat, we will discuss it then.”

“It isn’t about something so crude as being bred,” Aziraphale murmured, sniffling. “I’m lonely.”

Crowley waved away the concerned guards stationed near Aziraphale’s room and guided the omega in, noting that the chambermaid had drawn his bath for him and laid out his nightgown. 

“Alright, let’s get you in the bath to relax.” He helped the sniffling omega out of his clothes and into the bath, careful to keep his eyes averted, as he mulled over how to respond. 

He sat on the floor with his back leaning against the tub, not facing Aziraphale as he spoke, “I won’t invalidate your feelings by saying you aren’t lonely because it isn’t my place to tell you how to feel. Though, I will tell you that there are people surrounding you right now that care about you. If there’s anything you need or if you just want to talk, we’re all here for you. Things won’t be like they were before for you and you don’t need a baby to cure that loneliness inside you anymore. I’ll do everything in my power to make you happy and I apologize for my silence before… I was wrapped up in my own feelings and being selfish when I should’ve put you first.”   
  
He heard Aziraphale shift slightly in the bath before wet arms flung around his shoulders in an awkward hug. “Thank you.”   
  
“Don’t thank me for being a friend,” Crowley sighed, stroking Aziraphale’s arm. “Do you feel cleaned up so I can get you to bed?”

“Why don’t you join me and clean me up yourself?” Aziraphale purred in his ear.    
  
Crowley gently disentangled Aziraphale’s arms from around his shoulders before standing up and grabbing a towel. “Out you go.” Aziraphale stepped out and Crowley toweled him off as best he could without looking more than necessary before helping Aziraphale into his nightgown.

Aziraphale looked around the room, distracted from Crowley finally, and began picking up various blankets and pillows before taking them to his bed and arranging them. Crowley quirked a brow at him, confused. “What are you doing?”   
  
“Quick! I need soft things!” Aziraphale told him in lieu of answering as he picked up a pillow. Crowley shrugged and decided to go along with it, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep if Aziraphale wasn’t settled before he left. Besides, this side of Aziraphale was one he’d never seen before and it was… well, quite adorable really.   
  
He found an assortment of pillows in what appeared to be a reading nook and brought them to Aziraphale and waited patiently as the omega inspected each one before placing them strategically in what Crowley was beginning to recognize as a nest. Aziraphale was nesting. Crowley felt something in him begin to melt at that.   
  
Aziraphale perked up suddenly and walked over to his discarded clothes before grabbing Crowley’s coat and adding it to his nest. He tilted his head in thought before turning to Crowley. “May I have your shirt again?”   
  
Crowley sighed as if put out but was internally preening as he removed his shirt for Aziraphale to add to his nest. He watched as Aziraphale crawled into bed and smiled to himself, satisfied. “I suppose I ought to-”   
  
He was cut off as Aziraphale pulled him down into the nest and nuzzled at his neck. “Don’t go, alpha.”   
  
Crowley was torn between melting at the fact that Aziraphale wanted both him  _ and  _ his scent in the nest and the fact that sleeping with Aziraphale would be a terrible idea right now. “Aziraphale… I can’t.”   
  
“Is it because I’m not a good omega?” Aziraphale asked him quietly, his chin wobbling.    
  
Crowley panicked. “No! Don’t cry! You’re the best omega, the most beautiful, witty, sassy, and perfect omega in all of Heaven and Hell! I just care about you, and you will be upset if we go through with anything right now.”   
  
“I won’t!” Aziraphale insisted, his chin wobbling. “I’ve been thinking of you while I touch myself at night…”   
  
Crowley took a deep breath, ignoring his body’s reaction to that tidbit of information. “Angel, I think about you too, but not tonight, alright? If you still want me when you’re not in heat we can.”   
  
“Will you still stay, please? I couldn’t bear it if you left…” Aziraphale whimpered, wiping a stray tear.   
  
Crowley crumbled at the sight of a tear on his angel’s face. “I’ll stay but we will cuddle and only cuddle. You have to behave yourself, alright?”

Aziraphale made a happy noise at that, all the tears were suddenly gone, which had Crowley wondering if they were real or not. He kicked off his shoes and leaned against the headboard and held his arm out for the omega to cuddle against his chest and have access to the scent glands on his neck. He’ll just leave when Aziraphale falls asleep. By the time he wakes up, he’d have forgotten all about Crowley’s being here or he’d be too caught up in his heat to care.

After rutting against Crowley’s side for a while, Aziraphale dozed off. Crowley stroked his back softly, waiting for the right moment to leave but… Aziraphale was purring and he looked so soft and vulnerable while sleeping. He had to stay. Just a while longer. Then he’ll leave.

  
Crowley woke up, immediately registering that he wasn’t in his own room. Fuck. He turned to see Aziraphale awake, sitting up and staring at him.    
  
“Angel…” He trailed off from whatever he was going to say when he noticed the clarity in Aziraphale’s eyes and the embarrassed flush to his cheeks.   
  
“I think you should go, Crowley,” Aziraphale told him softly. “This was all inappropriate of me and I apologize.”   


“Don’t apologize, sweetheart,” Crowley told him, hoping to help ease Aziraphale’s embarrassment at the vulnerable situation. “You did nothing wrong.”   
  
“I sexually harassed you and practically forced you to stay,” Aziraphale scoffed softly, blushing. “Thank you for… helping me, I suppose.”   
  
“I agree that I should leave… before you get hit with it again…” Crowley told him.   
  
Aziraphale leaned over and kissed the corner of his mouth before pulling back and allowing Crowley to get out of the nest they’d made together.

Crowley paused at the door, locking eyes with Aziraphale. “I’ll have a maid send up something for you to eat and drink. I’ll see you in a few days.”   
  
“Thank you, my dear,” Aziraphale smiled softly at him, already pulling Crowley’s shirt from its place on the nest… undoubtedly to  _ use _ .

Crowley had time to bathe and tend to his neglected cock before he rushed to breakfast with his hair still wet and pulled into a top-knot.    
  
His father eyed him, still clearly angry, while everyone ate silently. “I see you’ve decided to join us. Busy night?”   
  
Crowley pretended not to notice his patronizing tone. “Yes, actually. See, I met these three women-”   
  
Millicent rolled her eyes while Savaric laughed and tried to cover it with a cough. Gilbert, Thurstan, and Douglas all gave him a warning look that he ignored.   
  
“Three women? You must be joking,” His father said, irritated.   
  
“Why? I’m more than capable, father. Or were you hoping I’d be taking my  _ prize _ ?” Crowley sneered. 

“I could have your head for your disrespect-”   
  
“Bold words for a man unarmed at a table full of those who’d kill to defend me,” Crowley cut him off scathingly. “I know you’ve played chess, father. The queen is the most valuable piece. You do what you must to protect them. Though I’m a regent, Aziraphale is by all intents and purposes the queen and I will protect him and support him.” There was a layer of a threat under his words, indicating that he will kill those who rose against his queen.   
  
“And just where is your queen?” The king asked, his tone patronizing.   
  
“Busy. With the three women,” Crowley drawled.   
  
Savaric guffawed at that but yet again, began covering it with a cough as Gilbert pretended to pat his back. 

“Sir Savaric, if you’re ill you should perhaps make yourself scarce at my table,” King Lucifer snapped.

Gilbert’s eyes narrowed dangerously and Crowley cleared his throat. “Really… it’s my table if you want to be honest. Savaric’s healthy, I assure you.”   
  
“As healthy as an alpha could be while taking another alpha’s cock like an omega bitch,” Lucifer snapped, standing up. “I’ll forgive your disrespect because you are my son but cross me again and I will not be so merciful.” 

Savaric’s face colored and he stood up and walked out of the room. Gilbert quickly stood and went after him, whether it was to give his husband comfort or remove himself from the king’s presence before he got violent was anyone’s guess.    
  
Crowley wanted to roll his eyes at his father’s words but suppressed the urge. His father wasn’t merciful, he had simply not succeeded in his original plan to kill Crowley without causing a revolution and now had to reevaluate. “Great to see you too, dad. Have a nice trip. Kiss Beezlebub goodbye for me.” He stood up from the table, indicating for Millicent to follow, and left without a backward glance.   


They made some distance from the breakfast room before Millicent grabbed his shoulder and whirled him around. “Alright, we’re alone. Tell me what the hell’s going on.”   
  
“Aziraphale’s in heat,” he told her quietly. “I just didn’t want him to know because that’s something that bastard would use to manipulate me.”   
  
She nodded in understanding. “I suppose it came on early?”   
  
“I think so. I don’t know what his normal cycle is but he didn’t seem to be expecting it,” Crowley told her, frowning.

Millicent smirked. “This may come as a surprise to you but Aziraphale is an omega at his core. He likes feeling loved, safe, and protected. His heat could’ve been triggered by an alpha he was interested in winning a tournament for his hand and using the opportunity to give him the sort of rights he’s always wanted rather than just taking him like a brute.”   
  
“He… liked it that much?” Crowley asked sheepishly. “I know he appreciated the gesture but I didn’t realize it was enough for him to decide I’m a good candidate to sire his children…”   
  
“It was a little attractive,” Millicent admitted playfully, swatting him on the shoulder. “Don’t let that water your too-large ego either. Now, what do we do about Aziraphale’s heat? Your father hasn’t left yet.”   


“Well that’s why I need you,” he gave her a pleading look as he spoke, hoping it would work.   
  
She heaved a put-upon sigh. “I have to babysit our friend until your father leaves?”   
  
“Please? It can only be you!” He pleaded.   
  
“I mean, I’m not the only one-”   
  
“Right, let me go ask Douglas. I’m sure he will exercise restraint while the man he’s in love with is begging for a knot,” Crowley drawled.   
  
“First of all, gross. Secondly, I meant Savaric, you jackass.” She swatted him in the back of the head. 

“Oh, yeah that makes more sense. He doesn’t like omegas,” Crowley mused. “Aziraphale views him as a brotherly figure so I’m sure he’ll be fine. I mean, I’m fine around you when you’re in heat.”   
  
“Exactly. Though I suppose the two of us can go see him and hopefully we’ll keep him calm. It’s rare to have a heat triggered by an alpha so the results and intensity may vary.”

Aziraphale woke up to a knock on his door. He sat up expectantly, beaming. “Crowley?”   
  
Millicent poked her head in. “Are you alright for company?”   
  
“Yeah… it’s strange. I’m not feeling… you know,” Aziraphale admitted softly, visibly hiding his disappointment at his visitor not being Crowley. “I only felt like I was in heat when Crowley was here and then shortly before he left it went away.”   
  
Millicent moved to allow Savaric in at that information and the alpha held up a bag of crepes triumphantly. “We’re the snack brigade!”   


“Oh, how delightful! I was feeling rather peckish and was worried Crowley had forgotten he’d promised to have food sent up for me,” Aziraphale told them. He was smiling but his wringing hands gave away his anxiety.   
  
Savaric didn’t seem to notice as he sat on the bed, careful not to enter the nest, and began passing out crepes. Millicent pulled up a chair and touched her friend’s worried hands reassuringly. “He didn’t forget, sweetheart.”

“I suppose I’m just feeling a bit… well rejected. What sort of omega does that make me if an alpha can lay in bed with me all night while I was in heat and not touch me?” He asked her, tearing up. “I know it’s silly to be upset over something like this but I thought he wanted me, that the sacrifices I made to stay here with him were going to amount to something.”   
  
Millicent smirked at him, “I assure you, he wasn’t unaffected.”   
  
“He was being overprotective of you at breakfast,” Savaric added with his mouth full. “His argument with his father did make Gilbert a bit angry.”   
  
Aziraphale frowned at that. “Why?”   
  
Savaric colored, shrugging. “King Lucifer had some… not nice things to say about me. He said those things because he was angry with Crowley and the only way to get to Crowley is by hurting the people he cares about.”

Aziraphale’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “What did he say?”   
  
“It was too crude to repeat, I assure you,” Savaric told him, smiling weakly.   


“Well, whatever he said, it wasn’t true,” Aziraphale told him confidently.   
  
Savaric snorted, looking amused. “It was true, actually. It was the tone in which he said it.”   
  
“Oh well, do you wish for me to remove his tongue?” Aziraphale asked him, only partially kidding.   
  
Millicent returned from where she had gotten up to get the three of them wine from the cabinet. “It’s really nothing for you to be ashamed of. I think most people would be proud to share a bed with someone as handsome and noble as Gilbert. If anything, it was an accidental compliment.”   
  
“He teased you over Gilbert? What on earth?” Aziraphale asked Savaric, confused.   
  
“As I said, it was too crude to repeat. I have a lovely and innocent tongue so I won’t risk repeating it and ruining my delicate sensibilities.”   
  
“There is nothing innocent about you,” Millicent laughed. “Aziraphale, however…”   
  
Aziraphale blushed. “I’m not innocent! I read.”   
  
“Dirty books?” Savaric questioned, looking amused.   
  
“Erotic novels.” Aziraphale corrected primly.   
  
“Dirty books.” Savaric and Millicent agreed in unison.

Crowley looked up from his desk as the door opened. He blinked in surprise as Aziraphale stepped in, looking sheepish. “Angel, I thought…”   
  
“My heat turned out to be a small one, seeing as how it was triggered rather than occurring naturally,” Aziraphale told him, blushing.

“How are you feeling, now?” Crowley asked him, gesturing for Aziraphale to take a seat.   
  
“I feel… fine, I suppose,” Aziraphale murmured softly, looking embarrassed. “I apologize again for my impropriety.”   
  
Crowley stared at him in shock. “Your impropriety? You could hardly help it and I’m hardly a virgin. It didn’t bother me any.”   
  
Aziraphale nodded in understanding before standing up. “I suppose I should go. Dinner is going to be served soon.”   
  
“Right, by the way, Sir Douglas and Lady Clara both decided to stay behind. Lady Clara spoke with me privately about her allegiance to my cause and I believe she may be a valuable asset to the court. You already know Douglas is one of the people I trust most.”

Aziraphale felt a stab of something in his stomach. “The omega?”   
  
“Yeah, she’s an omega,” Crowley confirmed absentmindedly as he narrowed his eyes at whatever he was reading in concentration. “Why?”

“Would she be a valuable asset as your queen?” Aziraphale asked him, fighting the jealousy clawing at his throat, surely an after-effect of his heat.   
  
Crowley looked up at him, his jaw tense, before standing up and circling around the desk. He stepped into Aziraphale’s space and braced his hands on the desk on either side of the omega, trapping him in. “If I had a queen, it would be you. Assuming you’re willing, of course.”   
  
“Is that a proposal?” Aziraphale asked him, shivering at the dark look in Crowley’s eyes.

“Would you rather have me do something more romantic?” Crowley asked him, his lips twitching in the corners.

“No, this is fine.” Aziraphale laughed softly. “Though this would be a new clause to our arrangement, would it not?”   
  
“Alright, what are your demands?” Crowley asked him playfully.   
  
“I told you while I was in heat that I want children. That wasn’t a lie. Though I suppose we would have to have children because we’re royalty.” He mused.   
  
Crowley snorted at that. “Anything else?”   
  
“When you succeed in overthrowing your father and taking Hell’s throne, I want Heaven’s.”   
  
Crowley stared at him for a moment, the weight of the request settling on the both of them. “You’ve got yourself a deal, angel. I like the ambition.”

Aziraphale sighed in relief as Crowley leaned in and kissed him gently. “I have something for you.” He removed the brooch he’d bought from their time at the festival from the pocket of his gown and held it out. “As an engagement gift,” he explained. “You didn’t seem like the kind of man to like a ring.”   
  
Crowle grinned and released Aziraphale to walk around the desk and open a drawer before pulling out a small box. He got on his knee and grinned at Aziraphale playfully as he opened the box to reveal a small gold ring with a small crest of a serpent surrounded with angelic wings. “In the name of The Arrangement, will you marry me, have children with me, and then ultimately take back your throne I was forced to take from you?”

Aziraphale realized, then, that Crowley must’ve bought the ring in advance, indicating he had intended to ask Aziraphale for his hand for some time now. This also led him to the realization that maybe the lavish gifts weren’t intended as political presents either.   
  
“I do.” Aziraphale laughed, blushing as Crowley slid the gold ring onto his finger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a twitter account to keep people updated on my fics and if there are delays and such lol I literally just made it and have barely used it yet. But if you follow me and there's anything you would like to read/see in my fics or maybe one-shots feel free to dm! https://twitter.com/LeaveTheGarden
> 
> I absolutely live for comments and kudos and thank you all for reading <3


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some soft/relaxed Aziraphale and a fluff chapter lol I hope you all enjoy <3

Aziraphale blushed as he showed Anathema, Millicent, and Savaric his engagement ring as they picnicked in the gardens. He huffed, offended when none of them looked surprised in the slightest. “You could all at least pretend to be happy for me. Crowley is a good man.”   
  
“I’m happy for you, dove,” Anathema told him, her voice teasing. “I’m also not surprised seeing as how the both of you were making your attraction to each other obvious to everyone  _ except _ each other this entire time.”   
  
Aziraphale blushed at that as Millicent and Savaric both laughed. “You’re all the worst.”   
  
“But we love you,” Millicent cooed, pinching his cheek.   
  
Savaric finished a flower crown he’d made out of the flowers in the garden and placed it on his head with a small smile. “You’re going to be so pretty when you get married.”

“I do hope so. What did you wear when you got married?” Aziraphale asked Savaric, curious.   
  
“We married naked in a pond,” Savaric said bluntly, scrunching his nose in thought.   
  
“They did! The bastards eloped,” Millicent chuckled.   
  
Aziraphale laughed as well, blushing at the thought of getting married while naked. “Somehow I pictured the two of you having something more romantic.”   
  
“Oh, it was romantic,” Savaric sighed. “It was at night and we stood directly in the moon’s reflection on the water as we said our vows. Then we made love-”   
  
“Okay!” Millicent interrupted, laughing. “Innocent ears are present.”   
  
“Aziraphale isn’t that innocent,” Savaric teased.   
  
Aziraphale blushed, wringing his hands. “About that…”   
  
Three pairs of eyes widened, staring at him in alarm.   
  
“I erm… that is to say… how does… how are alphas… in bed?” Aziraphale stammered out, blushing.

“I wouldn’t know anything about male alphas. I’m sorry, dove,” Anathema told him, looking apologetic.   
  
“I wouldn’t either,” Millicent told him. “I tend to like omegas and betas. Alphas aren’t entirely out of the question but I usually prefer not to deal with them.” She scrunched her nose. “Too territorial.”   
  
Savaric made a show of cracking his knuckles. “I can help you, my innocent flower of a friend.”   
  
“Call me an innocent flower again and I will fight you,” Aziraphale warned without any real heat, causing his friend to laugh.   


Crowley glanced up from his work when his door opened. Millicent strode through, looking grim.   
  
“Is… something wrong, Milly?” he asked hesitantly.   
  
“No, no… I’m just a bit concerned?” Millicent told him, sitting across from him. “I am so very happy for you that you and Aziraphale are engaged. I know you care for him and he’s fond of you in his own way but… he’s so  _ innocent _ , Anthony.”   


Crowley was confused. “I know? I don’t see how his innocence is a problem.”   
  
“Not a problem, per se… I just feel like you’re used to going fast and falling into bed with people. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course, I just want you to think carefully about how you’ll proceed with him. Take it slow and make sure he’s comfortable. He seemed so flustered earlier.”

Crowley felt the tips of his ears turn red. “Did he ask about me?”   


“He’s never been with anyone. Ever. So yes, he asked for advice. Savaric was helpful but Aziraphale still seemed overwhelmed. I care about him, that’s why I’m talking to you.”   


Crowley reached across the desk to grab her hand reassuringly. “Of course I’ll take good care of him. I love him.”   
  
Millicent nodded, looking thoughtful. “Thank you. I’m sorry, I’ve grown quite protective of him.”   
  
“Don’t be sorry,” Crowley laughed. “I appreciate that you’re looking out for him. Thank you.”

Aziraphale blushed as Douglas’ hands covered his on the handle of the sword as he showed him the best way to attack the target. “You may want to remove your ring when you sword fight. It can break.” Douglas let go of him to step away.   
  
“Oh, that would make me so sad. I’m quite fond of it,” Aziraphale told him, blushing as he twisted at the gold band on his finger. “Crowley picked the perfect one for me.”   
  
“He did,” Douglas agreed softly, grabbing his hand to examine the ring. He let go before reaching up to unclasp a gold chain from around his neck. “Here, you can use this to wear it as a necklace when you fight.”   
  
Aziraphale accepted the gift before carefully looping the chain through his ring and accepting Douglas’s help in putting it on. The alpha stepped back and smiled. “Lovely, as always.”   
  
“You’re still such a flatterer but I’m an engaged man now,” Aziraphale chided playfully as Douglas stepped behind him to resume guiding his arms.   
  
“I have to leave soon,” Douglas told him abruptly. Aziraphale frowned and Douglas stepped closer, nearly embracing him from behind. “It’s a small trip but it’s as The Black Knight.”   
  
“Oh? How is the real one faring?” Aziraphale asked him softly.

Douglas huffed a small laugh from behind him, his breath tickling Aziraphale’s neck. “He misses The White Knight but he’s happy. He got engaged recently.”   
  
“Really?” Aziraphale asked, a small bittersweet smile curling his lips. “Do they love each other?”   
  
“I think so,” Douglas told him, sounding sincere.    
  
“Well, good,” Aziraphale said, reassured. “I’d want him to be happy.”   
  
“So you give up on your love for him that easily?” Douglas asked him gently. Aziraphale attempted to turn to see his face but Douglas pulled him flush against his body, holding him tightly where he couldn’t turn.   
  
Aziraphale frowned. “I wouldn’t say that-”   
  
“I think you should,” Douglas murmured. “You love The Black Knight but why?”   
  
“He’s kind, strong, heroic… not afraid to be gentle… He’s the sort of man I’ve always wanted.”   
  
“You don’t even know his name,” Douglas told him. “You need to let go, focus on what’s in front of you.”   
  
“Well, dear boy, I have no choice but to do so when you hold me in place like this,” Aziraphale quipped, pouting.   


Douglas chuckled. “I mean metaphorically. Why are you attracted to Anthony?”   
  
“Well, because he’s kind, strong, heroic… oh…”   
  
“See what I mean? If you’re capable of loving The Black Knight you should be more than capable of loving your future husband. They’re really quite similar,” Douglas told him pragmatically.    
  
“Crowley’s also quite clever and funny if he sets his mind to it,” Aziraphale told him softly. “He always makes sure I’m alright, above all else. He never pushes me or oversteps the boundaries I set… he’s so endlessly good to me.”   
  
“Anything else?”   
  
“He’s handsome, far more handsome than what is absolutely necessary,” Aziraphale huffed a small laugh. “He’s so vulnerable and soft when he sleeps… and warm. He can be so kind and yet… so intense sometimes it makes my head spin. I think he feels he oversteps at times, that he’s pushing my boundaries… but there are certain boundaries I want him to push against…”   
  
“You want to lay with him?” Douglas suggested, laughing and letting go.   
  
“Don’t laugh! The other night we kissed for the first time and it was so lovely… I wanted more.”

“Well, you’re in luck, because Crowley is always glad to give more,” Douglas teased, winking.   
  
“I regret telling you already,” Aziraphale pouted. Ignoring the pang at the mention of Crowley’s experience. What if he floundered too much and wasn’t good enough to please him?   
  
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Douglas apologized half-heartedly, “I was just teasing because I’ll be gone for a few weeks and won’t be able to.”

“Yes, well, I’ll accept your apology for now,” Aziraphale sniffed delicately. 

Douglas just rolled his eyes and reached over to ruffle his hair. “I’ll be back in time for the wedding, don’t worry.”

Crowley caught Aziraphale on his way to the library later that evening and waved a picnic basket. “Angel! Want a picnic?”

Aziraphale smiled, happy for the chance to spend time with his new fiance. “Of course, my dear.”

They took their horses this time due to Crowley’s insistence that he knew yet another good spot for a picnic. Aziraphale laughed at his enthusiasm but humored him.   
  
The picnic spot was a half-hour ride into the forest and was near a waterfall and creek. Aziraphale smiled at Crowley as he dismounted Conrad and tied him to a tree next to Nightmare. “Oh, this is lovely, actually.”   
  
“You sound surprised!” Crowley retorted, looking offended.   
  
“I am,” Aziraphale admitted softly, watching as Crowley laid out their picnic blanket. “You always surprise me.”   
  
“Well, you’ll soon find that I’m boring and just brought fruit, wine, and crepes again,” Crowley teased, gesturing for Azirpahale to sit down. 

“Oh, I don’t think you’re boring. A bit dimwitted at times, but never boring,” Aziraphale teased.   
  
Crowley sputtered at him, searching for a retort. “You’re one to talk, with that silly way you act while in heat. Adorable, but quite silly.”   
  
“Hmm, I just wanted to make my alpha happy. I could hardly help it,” Aziraphale retorted, mock pouting at his fiance.

“You do make me happy, just the way you are,” Crowley told him, his eyes sincere. 

“A bitch?” Aziraphale teased, blushing at the curse.   
  
“A little,” Crowley winked. “I actually meant that you’re headstrong and cunning but whatever you wish to call it.”   
  
Aziraphale took a sip of his wine to hide his blush as he shifted closer to Crowley to lean against him. “Most alphas don’t want their omegas to be headstrong.”   
  
“I’m not most alphas,” Crowley responded, his lips twitching. “I’ve never been into the sweet and docile omega stereotype. Not my thing.”   
  
“Clearly,” Aziraphale agreed softly.    
  
They sat in silence for a while in favor of eating their food and sipping their wine. The sun had fully set by the time one of them broke the silence.   
  
“Aziraphale, I just want you to know that I do truly care for you and want you to be comfortable and happy. So if I ever do anything to disrupt that comfort or happiness I want you to tell me, alright?”   
  
“Alright,” Aziraphale agreed, smiling. He rolled his head to lean it on Crowley’s shoulder and look up at him, his breath catching when he realized Crowley was looking at him too. “Kiss me…”   
  
Crowley did, soft and gentle. Aziraphale reached one hand up to grip Crowley’s neck as he deepened the kiss.    
  
Crowley broke away gently and smiled at him softly. “Let’s get you home, alright?”   
  
“I didn’t drink but one glass of wine,” Aziraphale told him.   
  
“I know,” Crowley told him, his voice firm. “It’s just getting late.”   
  
Aziraphale was grateful the dark hid his flushed face as he stood up and strode to his horse. He’d been rejected… again. 

Aziraphale looked up from his book as the library doors opened to reveal Lady Clara. He stiffened and put away his book before standing up to bow politely. “Lady Clara, to what do I owe the pleasure?”   
  
“I heard about your engagement at dinnertime while you and Prince Crowley were both away! I just wanted you to know I am so very happy for the two of you!” She gushed. “May I see your ring?”   
  
Aziraphale just dumbly held out his hand, confused. He assumed she had stayed in an attempt to be Crowley’s bride but that apparently wasn’t the case. “If you don’t mind me asking, Lady Clara, why did you stay?”   
  
“Oh, just call me Clara!” She smiled brightly at him before continuing, “I fell in love with someone but oh… they wouldn’t notice me.”   
  
“Who?” Aziraphale questioned, still confused.   
  
She blushed, darting her eyes away from him in embarrassment. “Lady Millicent, your highness. I know the two of you are close… oh please, you must help me with her!”

Aziraphale blinked at her, dumbfounded. “You want help… with Milly?”   
  
“Yes, please! She’s so dashing and intelligent… I wouldn’t even know where to begin speaking with her.” She lamented softly, wringing her hands.

“I suppose I could help…” Aziraphale told her, still confused. This was so sudden.   
  
“Oh, thank you! Thank you!” She squealed excitedly, clapping her hands.    
  
He broached the subject with Millicent the next morning as the two of them and Thurstan walked to the council meeting.    
  
Millicent looked mildly surprised. “Lady Clara? I didn’t know she fancied me.”   
  
“Probably because she changes on a whim. Just a few winters ago it was Anthony and the summer before that, it was Douglas. I do believe she fancied me at some point as well. She’s a fickle thing,” Thurstan scoffed.   
  
“Oh, you  _ would _ think that seeing as how you're a judgemental snob,” Millicent teased, flicking Thurstan in the forehead playfully. “I suppose I’ll indulge her. At the worst, I’ll get a good lay out of it.”

“I’m not being judgemental, I’m being cautious,” Thurstan defended, furrowing their brows. “Something about her rubs me the wrong way.”   
  
Aziraphale hummed in agreement. “I think it’s the cheerful demeanor but I suppose we can hardly judge her when Savaric is the same way.”

“You have a point,” they agreed reluctantly, still frowning.    
  
“Thurstan, do you honestly think I wouldn’t know if someone is pretending around me? Nothing gets past me.” She reached up to pinch their cheek and Aziraphale noted the subtle flush to both her and Thurstan’s cheeks as she did so. Interesting. “You didn’t like Savaric at first either and now you adore him.” 

“Yes, but that was different-” they began.   
  
“You also think Aziraphale is suspicious,” Millicent interrupted, her tone still light and teasing. “Come on now, you need to lighten up.”

Thurstan lapsed into silence at that, looking pensive. Aziraphale tried to not be offended. To be fair, he  _ was _ quite suspicious. Millicent seemed satisfied with her friend’s silence and walked into the meeting room.   
  
Thurstan’s expression wavered into one of pain before morphing into a fake smile as they walked into the meeting room after her. Very interesting.

Aziraphale closed his book and looked over at Crowley, who was lounging at the opposite end of the couch reading. “Lady Clara came to me the other night and asked for help. Apparently she fancies Milly.”   
  
Crowley put down his book, frowning. “Thurstan won’t like that at all.”   
  
“Does Thurstan fancy her as well?” Aziraphale asked him.   
  
Crowley sighed, looking torn. “It’s not quite my story to tell but… Thurstan and Millicent have a history of sorts. They didn’t let their split ruin their friendship but the odd thing is that Thurstan is both the one who ended things and the one who never let go. I’ve never quite understood it.”   
  
“So… they do fancy her?”   
  
“I believe it's a lot deeper than that, though it’s hard to tell. Thurstan doesn’t like to open up about their emotions and we’ve always respected their privacy in that aspect. They’ve always been kind and loving but as far as being open… it’s never been their style.”

Aziraphale frowned. “I can relate to them in that way I suppose, having a hard time being open about how I feel.”   
  
Crowley grabbed his hand gently. “You can open up when you’re ready and until then, we’re here for you. I’m here for you.”   


“You’re so kind, Crowley,” Aziraphale murmured, turning his hand over to lace their fingers together. “I’m glad you proposed.”   
  
Crowley leaned in and kissed him gently. “I’m glad I proposed too.”

Aziraphale smiled in response before leaning in for another kiss, sighing as Crowley’s hand moved up to cup his cheek. Their kiss deepened and he clutched at Crowley’s shirt to pull him closer.    
  
With a pleased hum, Crowley let himself be pulled on top of the omega as he laid back on the couch, never breaking the kiss.   
  
The problem was… Crowley’s hands didn’t wander at all… not like the first time. Aziraphale broke from the kiss, frowning. “Did I do something wrong?”   
  
Crowley frowned as well, looking confused. “No? Why would you think that?”   
  
“You don’t seem to want me,” Aziraphale murmured softly. “When you proposed… did you just want me because I’m the best candidate for a queen?”   
  
“I proposed to you because I want you in the sense there’s never been anyone I’ve wanted more,” Crowley told him softly. “What made you think I didn’t want you?”   
  
“You keep stopping,” Aziraphale told him, his chin wobbling. “If you only wish to regard me as a friend, please tell me now so I can stop feeling this way. You don’t have to pretend with me.”   
  
Crowley’s eyes turned a molten gold then, his voice dropping. “Wanting you is something I would  _ never _ have to pretend to do. I can show you if you wish.”   
  
Aziraphale blushed, wondering what Crowley would do. “Please show me.”

Crowley’s eyes scanned his face for a trace of doubt before pulling back and patting his lap. “Come sit.”   
  
Aziraphale blinked in confusion but did as he was told, sitting with his back to Crowley’s chest.   
  
“Spread your legs and pull up your skirt. I’m going to touch you,” Crowley growled low in his ear.    
  
With a small pleased noise, Aziraphale did as he was told. He shivered when he felt Crowley’s long fingers moved to touch him through his knickers.    
  
“If I make you uncomfortable, tell me to stop and I will,” Crowley told him softly as he slipped one hand underneath his knickers to touch his already slick sex while the other splayed across his lower pelvis.    
  
Aziraphale panted and squirmed in Crowley’s lap as the alpha slowly dragged his fingers across Aziraphale’s slick sex, sometimes circling his entrance, but never pushing in. “Please, Crowley, your fingers…” he finally panted out, grasping at his wrist that disappeared inside his knickers in a desperate attempt to prompt Crowley into action.   
  
“Say it. Tell me to fuck you with my fingers,” Crowley told him, his voice taking on the tone of an alpha command. 

Aziraphale shivered in delight at his body’s reaction, throwing his head back against Crowley’s shoulders. “Please, alpha, fuck me with your fingers! Please!” He moaned as he felt one finger slip inside of him, relaxing against Crowley as the alpha added another finger, scissoring him open.    
  
“You’re so beautiful like this,” Crowley praised, pressing down on a spot inside Aziraphale that made him make a low keening noise. “If it weren’t for your chastity I would’ve bent you over the nearest flat surface and fucked a baby into you by now. However, I respect your wish to be married.” Crowley’s voice was soft in comparison to the loud noises falling from Aziraphale’s lips. “Do you want that? Me to give you a baby?”   
  
“Crowley-” Aziraphale whined as Crowley began picking up the pace, fucking his fingers into him hard and rough.   
  
“You’re such a good omega, always so eager to please me and not knowing you please me without even trying,” Crowley nipped at his neck over his mating glands. “Can’t wait to claim you.”   
  
Aziraphale felt his body begin to tense up and he bared his neck for Crowley to mark him. “Please! Alpha!”   
  
Crowley kissed his mating gland gently before biting down, not hard enough to break the skin but just hard enough that it overrode Aziraphale’s instincts and pushed him over the edge.    
  
Aziraphale slumped against Crowley, sated and happy, as the alpha held slick-soaked fingers in front of him. “Lick them clean, angel.”

With a blush, Aziraphale did as he was told, feeling delighted at the praising noise Crowley made in response.    
  
Crowley gently pushed her skirt back into place before holding Aziraphale close on his lap and kissing the top of his head. “Did that feel good?”   
  
“Wonderful, dear,” Aziraphale murmured, happy.   
  
“That stuff about making you pregnant… it was just dirty talk so don’t worry about me thinking you’re-”   
  
“I know, Crowley,” Aziraphale giggled, interrupting him. “I loved all of that and none of it made me uncomfortable.”   
  
“Not overwhelming?” Crowley asked, his voice cautious.   
  
“A little… but I believe I like being overwhelmed because I trust you to take care of me. Is that strange?”   
  
“No, not at all. I’m honored that you trust me to take care of you,” Crowley told him, his voice full of wonder. “I’ve been told I’m a bit too commanding in bed so I wanted to be sure I wasn’t making you feel unsafe.”   
  
“I felt safe,” Aziraphale assured him softly, his eyes drifting shut. “Don’t I need to make you feel nice too?” he asked sleepily.   
  
He distantly heard Crowley chuckle softly. “No sweetheart, it makes me feel nice to make you feel nice, alright? Just go to sleep, I’ve got you.”

Aziraphale barely heard as he slipped off into sleep.

  
Crowley sighed in content as the omega on his lap began to purr in his sleep. He brushed a few stray curls from his face before kissing him softly on the forehead, content to just hold his love in his arms like this as he slept… purring because he feels safe and cared for.

“I can’t wait until I get to marry you and be the luckiest bastard alive,” he whispered softly. “I’m going to make you happier than you could ever imagine.”   
  
Even if Aziraphale never felt the same way about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and I absolutely love comments and kudos!!!
> 
> Follow me on twitter @LeaveTheGarden <3


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Thank you for your patience while waiting on an update <3 Work's kicking my ass right now lol
> 
> Btw ~friendly~ reminder that this fic IS tagged as explicit and has been from the beginning. There IS smut and the smut will be pretty regular from here on out, especially as Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship develops. :)

Aziraphale nuzzled his face into his pillow with a contented sigh. His body felt… relaxed. He smiled to himself at the memory of the night before as he cuddled closer to the warmth beneath him, the smell of his alpha flooding his senses. Everything was so comforting and warm… and moving. Aziraphale’s eyes flew open in alarm and he sat up, headbutting Crowley’s chin in the process and causing the alpha to grunt in pain as he woke up.   
  
“Wha- Angel, are you alright?” Crowley mumbled, rubbing his chin.   
  
Aziraphale wrung his hands in embarrassment. “We- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to just fall asleep on you- I’m- I’m too heavy-” 

“Angel,” Crowley cut him off. “You’re not too much of anything. You’re perfect. I meant to let you nap for a while but your purring must’ve lulled me to sleep as well.”   
  
Aziraphale clutched his flaming face. “I was purring!?”   
  
Crowley smirked at him teasingly. “It was cute.”   
  
“‘M not cute,” Aziraphale mumbled, muffled by the hands covering his face.   
  
“Oh no, of course not,” Crowley teased, pulling Aziraphale’s hands away from his face. “You’re a vicious little thing, truly a force to be reckoned with. I’m quivering in my boots as we speak.”

Aziraphale mock glared at him. “You have no idea.”   
  
“I have some idea,” Crowley winked. “Do you want to have breakfast as usual or would you rather I have it sent up here?”   
  
“If you have it sent up here, then everyone will know we slept together last night,” Aziraphale chided him. “I have a reputation you know.”   
  
“Or, we just got up really early?” Crowley wheedled.

“Who’s posted on guard at my chambers?” Aziraphale asked him.   
  
Crowley’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “Savaric.”   
  
“Oh, well we may as well. That boy will tell  _ everyone _ I was gone all-”   
  
The library doors opened then as Savaric entered. “Aziraphale are you-” he broke off as he took in the sight of Aziraphale on Crowley’s lap. Savaric smirked before calling out to who Aziraphale assumed was his husband, “Nevermind! I found him! He’s snogging Crowley!” He gave Aziraphale a rather obvious encouraging wink before leaving the room.

Crowley burst out laughing as Aziraphale resumed covering his face. “That’s  _ exactly _ what I meant.”   


“Well, if it helps, he only gossips to Gilbert,” Crowley chuckled, pulling Aziraphale’s hands from his face again before pressing a kiss against his forehead. “Let’s get breakfast sent up, shall we?”

Aziraphale sighed as he watched Douglas finish packing his bag. “Must you go? I have a wedding to plan and I may faint from stress without you here.”   
  
Douglas chuckled at that before shouldering his bag. “You have Anthony, Anathema, Millicent, and Savaric to help with your stress. You don’t need me.”   
  
“I do need you, actually,” Aziraphale told him honestly, frowning. “Why does The Black Knight need you to go now?”   
  
“Political tensions,” Douglas answered evasively, reaching over to cup Aziraphale’s cheek. “You’ll be fine and I’ll be back in just a few weeks.”

They stared at each other for just a moment too long before Douglas dropped his hand and cleared his throat. “In any case, I’ll miss you. Make sure Anthony and Millicent behave themselves for me, alright?”   
  
Aziraphale nodded, his heart pounding as Douglas awkwardly shifted from foot to foot before walking out of the room. He clutched his hands over his pounding heart and leaned against the wall, sliding down. Why was he beginning to feel as if his heart is being split into pieces?

The doors to the library burst open and Thurstan, of all people, strode into the room before vaulting over the back of the couch instead of walking around it… as one normally does.   
  
“May I help you?” Aziraphale asked them, confused.   
  
“Yes, actually. May I be granted asylum to avoid Millicent and Clara?” Thurstan asked him sardonically. 

“Of course,” Aziraphale responded, closing his book. “Is there… is there something wrong? That you perhaps need to talk about?”   
  
Thurstan eyed him apprehensively for a moment before sighing and covering their eyes with their forearm. “Oh no, you want to talk about feelings. I wish I was sent out instead of Douglas. I’m sure he’d  _ love _ to sit around and discuss  _ feelings _ with you.”

Aziraphale flushed hotly. “You don’t have to be rude. I don’t think you could do the job Douglas is doing.”   
  
“Oh, because you’re privy to all of our ongoings?” Thurstan asked him, uncovering their lightning blue eyes to glare at him. “I actually can do the exact same job as Douglas and I would prefer it if I were to be the only one to do it.”   
  
“You’re The Black Knight!?” Aziraphale blurted, wide-eyed.   
  
“Yes, that’s me,” Thurstan flicked their hand dismissively. “Sometimes, at least. I just wish Douglas didn’t put himself in danger as he does. Losing him would upset Milly.”   
  
“So you’re the proxy? Aside from Douglas, I mean?” Aziraphale asked them.   
  
“Oh? You seem to know quite a lot about The Black Knight,” Thurstan observed, narrowing their eyes. “Why is that?”   
  
“I’m… a fan?” Aziraphale tried.   
  
“You’re a terrible liar,” Thurstan laughed.   
  
“So are you!” Aziraphale retorted, embarrassed. “You claim you hate to discuss feelings but they show on your face. If you’re upset you should tell someone.”   
  
“Fine, I am upset. I’m upset that the woman I’m in love with is getting wooed as we speak by the most suspicious woman I’ve ever met.” Thurstan gritted out. “Happy?”   
  
“Are you sure that isn’t jealousy?” Aziraphale asked them quietly.   
  
“Perhaps it is,” Thurstan admitted with a sigh. “I suppose it’s unfair of me to be upset, isn’t it?”   
  
“I won’t tell you how to feel,” Aziraphale told them. “Though, Clara does seem a bit too airheaded to bring much harm. Besides, one outing doesn’t mean Millicent will fall for her.”

Thurstan eyed him, their eyes glinting. “Time for you to be honest about your extensive Black Knight knowledge. Are you a spy?”   
  
“Oh no, nothing like that,” Aziraphale scoffed delicately. “The Black Knight saved me before and I suppose I’ve fancied him a bit ever since.”

“You bloody liar,” Thurstan laughed again. “Next you’ll tell me you’re that prissy knight he’s been mooning over for years.”   
  
The silence in the room was stifling and Aziraphale gave out a weak laugh to break it. “Don’t be silly-”   
  
“You’re the bloody White Knight aren’t you!?” Thurstan nearly shouted, sitting up in excitement.   
  
Aziraphale blushed, panicking. “Keep your voice down! Oh, dear-”   
  
Thurstan tilted their head, grinning. “I do believe I’ve trapped you. Tell my secrets, I’ll tell yours.”   
  
“Oh?” Aziraphale questioned weakly, his head spinning.   
  
“So, let’s talk, my newfound friend. I do  _ love _ to talk,” Thurstan chuckled, laying back down.    


“Well, I suppose if you insist,” Aziraphale sniffed, wondering if all of his newfound ‘friends’ were going to just claim him as a friend without asking first. How does one even make a friend? Was it this easy? He stood and walked to the liquor cabinet, knowing they may need it. “What do you prefer?”   
  
“Anything that’s drinkable and will numb my racing mind,” Thurstan replied.   
  
“Well, maybe we can get adventurous then? Crowley bought all these wines for me and I’ve only tried a few of them,” Aziraphale grinned at them, holding up a bottle. 

Crowley tugged at his collar, feeling stifling hot as he walked down the hallway but his temperature did nothing to deter a more pressing need to see his omega. He wondered if Aziraphale would want to  _ feel wanted _ again… Crowley would be all too happy to indulge him. He moved to push open the doors of the library when voices carried through.   
  
“What if she does love her? What do I do then?” Thurstan’s voice carried through the door, clearly drunk.   
  
“That’s not for me to say, dear. We all have our own experiences in love,” Aziraphale answered, so soft Crowley could barely hear him.   
  
“You should know though, shouldn’t you? You’re in love with Douglas but you’re marrying Crowley-”    
  
Crowley reeled back from the door as if he’d been burned, his heart hammering.   
  
“Oh… no that’s not entirely the case,” Aziraphale answered softly, calming Crowley somewhat. “I have feelings for Douglas, yes. Could it be love? Perhaps. But… if Douglas were a candle, Crowley would be the Sun. He shines so brightly and intensely it hurts to look but he makes me feel safe and protected. I’ve always wanted to feel safe and protected...”   
  
“So you love Crowley?” Thurstan pressed.   
  
“I don’t _know_ … I don’t know what love should even _feel_ like anymore,” Aziraphale answered, sounding forlorn. 

Oh, this lovely and sweet angel… if he didn’t know what love felt like, Crowley would be all too happy to show him. 

“Listen, it probably isn’t my place to tell you this but-”   
  
Crowley walked in then, smiling as if he hadn’t been eavesdropping. “Oh, so the two of you decided to get acquainted?”   
  
Thurstan’s cheeks were flushed in their drunken state but they were grinning. “Yeah, we’re the best of friends! He’s the only one who knows I love Milly!”   
  
Crowley grinned at them and began helping them up. “Let’s get you to bed, buddy. You’ve had enough. I knew you loved Milly, by the way. Not much gets past me.”   
  
Thurstan reeled back, Crowley’s hand on their waist acting as their only means of staying upright, and looked at Aziraphale, “Ha!  _ Nothing _ gets past him!”   
  
Aziraphale’s face flushed and he looked alarmed, as he gave Thurstan a warning look. 

Crowley just rolled his eyes and heaved his friend over his shoulder before turning to his fiance. “I’m going to get them to bed because they obviously had too much to drink.”

“Aziraphale, you’re so pretty upside down! Almost as pretty as Milly… ah, I love her hair now,” Thurstan babbled.   
  
“Yeah, they’re both really pretty-” Crowley began to agree before being cut off.   


“Aziraphale, I have something funny to tell you! Crowley is the-”   
  
Crowley abruptly smacked his friend on the rear to cut them off from whatever they were going to say, looking annoyed as Thurstan let out a yelp. “I’ll be back.”

Crowley was back a few minutes later, walking wordlessly to the liquor cabinet to pour himself a glass without looking at Aziraphale. “Tell me, how sober are you right now?”   
  
Aziraphale blinked at him, confused. “Quite? Thurstan drank far more than I did and seems to have been a bit of a lightweight…” He trailed off as Crowley turned around. The expression on the alpha’s face was one he’d never seen before and Aziraphale felt his own temperature raise slightly.    
  
Crowley strode across the room before leaning over Aziraphale, his hand braced on the back of the couch. Beads of sweat gathered on his forehead and his cheeks were flushed as he eyed Aziraphale as if he was something to be devoured. With his free hand, he slid his fingers up the omega’s neck and along his jawline, searing hot, before pressing his thumb against Aziraphale’s lips. “You’re so beautiful, have I ever told you that?”   
  
Aziraphale could only nod, mesmerized by the gold in Crowley’s eyes. He’d begun to realize what this was and instead of fear… he only felt desire. He wanted to see what Crowley would do to him, hear the noises the alpha would make in his ear in between whispered praise and promises. Would Crowley’s fingers feel this hot inside him? The thought made him shiver visibly. Feeling bold, he opened his mouth and closed it around Crowley’s thumb before sucking, being sure to look his fiance in the eyes as he did so. Crowley’s eyes grew impossibly dark and he pushed his thumb further into Aziraphale’s mouth, his cheeks flushed. “Fuck, angel…”   
  
They were interrupted by the door opening. Crowley quickly snatched his hand away, irritated. “Millicent-”   
  
“Anthony, get out. You’re rutting,” Millicent interrupted him, her voice firm.   
  
Crowley’s face contorted in rage but he calmed when Aziraphale stood up and gently touched his hot cheek. “It’s alright darling, she just doesn’t want you to accidentally hurt me. Don’t you want our first time together to be when we’re married?”   
  
The alpha gripped his hand and kissed his palm. “I want you now.” 

Oh, how Aziraphale wanted him too but that wasn’t something he was about to say around one of their friends. Perhaps he could find Crowley later and accept his advances?   
  
“You have me, darling. You’ll have all of me soon, alright?” Aziraphale soothed. He stood on his tiptoes and kissed Crowley chastely. “Do you want a scent gift?”

Crowley nodded, seemingly placated for now, and Aziraphale pulled out a handkerchief and rubbed it against his scent glands before handing it to his fiance. Crowley took it and gave him another kiss before leaving, glaring at Millicent as he walked out as if she’d ruined his day.   
  
Millicent snorted in amusement as soon as the door closed behind him. “Alphas are one ridiculous bunch.”   
  
“How did you know he was rutting?” Aziraphale asked her.   
  
“I keep track of everyone’s cycles better than they do,” Millicent explained with a shrug. “These days Anthony spends most of his time either working or spending time with you so I made an educated guess on where he would wander off to while rutting.”

“How long do his ruts normally last?” Aziraphale asked her, wringing his hands and frowning at the thought of not being able to speak with Crowley.   
  
“It just depends. He hasn’t shagged anyone in a while so he’s going to be a bit more aggressive and aroused than usual. I think the best thing right now is to keep your distance from him,” Millicent frowned as she spoke.   
  
“But… well… is he going to find someone else?” Aziraphale asked her, worried.   
  
“Oh no, he can control himself quite well and doesn’t completely lose himself while in a rut,” Millicent explained, flicking her hand. “He’s just… going to be more amorous with you than you are going to want before the two of you are wed.”

Aziraphale blushed at the thought. “What about our engagement announcement tomorrow night?”   
  
“He’ll be there, I’ll just be keeping an eye on him after your initial entrance into the ball. I think he can behave for just a few minutes but try not to tease him,” Millicent snickered as if something amused her.    


Anathema blinked at him in shock. “So… Crowley is rutting and instead of going easy on him… you’re going to wear this? Are you trying to drive him mad!?” She shook the sheer black gown for emphasis.   
  
“Well, I suppose I am,” Aziraphale scoffed. “Don’t get into a tiff about it, I just want to be good to him like he is to me. It’s not as if I have much else to offer.”   
  
“Oh, don’t act like that,” Anathema chastised gently. “You have plenty to offer and Crowley knows it. That’s why he’s so smitten with you.”   
  
“I suppose him being smitten is more than I could’ve hoped for. I always assumed I’d be forced to marry an alpha that just wanted me as a breeding tool,” Aziraphale mused, staring out the window into the courtyard. He didn’t see the sad look his friend gave him.   
  
“Oh, dove. I do believe Crowley is much more than smitten with you,” Anathema told him cheerfully as she searched for shoes to match his gown.

“Perhaps, but is he smitten with  _ me _ or what I allow him to see of me? He doesn’t know I’m The White Knight and that’s quite literally half of my identity,” Aziraphale frowned. “At least, it was. Sometimes I fear it was all a dream I made up to cope with my upbringing.”   
  
“It wasn’t a dream,” Anathema assured him softly. “Besides, your ability to wield a sword would probably impress him rather than put him off.”   
  
“That’s kind of you to say but I suppose there’s some part of me that warns me to be the perfect and polished omega prince I was raised to be.”   
  
“Yes and you ignore it. Look, at you now. You have friends besides me and Newt! You sneak out at night with handsome princes for moonlit picnics and wear revealing dresses to drive the poor man mad! You’re coming out of your shell, little by little, and learning to open up to others. I’m so proud of you for that. Don’t listen to that voice that tells you that you’re doing something wrong, alright?” Anathema walked over to grab his shoulders reassuringly. “You’re so beautiful, inside and out. Whether or not you’re moonlighting as a knight has never nor will ever change that.”

“Thank you, my dear… I didn’t realize I needed that,” he sniffled and reached up to give her hand a squeeze.   
  
“Any time, dove.”

Aziraphale blushed as Crowley took in his sheer gown with obvious hunger in his gaze before holding out his arm for the omega to take as they waited to be announced before entering the ballroom. “You look beautiful.”   
  
“I’m so glad you think so,” Aziraphale responded softly. “It’s for you, you know.”   
  
“Just me?”   
  
“Just you,” Aziraphale assured him, standing on his tiptoes to give his fiance a chaste kiss. He smirked when Crowley moved to follow as he pulled away. “I thought you were going to behave yourself?”   
  
“No one is around,” Crowley wheedled. “I can take you into the office and make you feel good. They won’t even notice we’re gone.”   
  
Aziraphale glanced down the hallway, blushing. “Make  _ me _ feel good?”   


Crowley leaned in close and Aziraphale was flooded with the scent of a rutting alpha. “Yeah, I’ll make  _ you _ feel good. Please, let me?”

“I want to wait until we’re wed for…  _ actual _ lovemaking,” Aziraphale told him firmly, ignoring his own blush.

“I wouldn’t forget something as important as that,” Crowley assured softly. “We don’t have much time before they announce us…”   
  
Aziraphale glanced at the doors to the ballroom and then back at Crowley’s molten gaze. That particular decision was easy.   
  
Moments later their names were announced and the doors were opened to reveal no one behind them.   
  
Millicent smacked an agitated hand to her forehead while Savaric and Anathema chortled. Gilbert gave Millicent a comforting pat on the back, though he looked amused as well. “Let them have their fun. They’re two consenting adults and ruts aren’t like heats where the mind gets clouded.”   
  
“I know, I’m just worried he’ll overwhelm the poor thing,” Millicent frowned, taking a sip of her wine. She smiled when pale arms circled her shoulders and a kiss was planted on her cheek. “Clara! You silly thing, you’re late!”   


“Eric and I had last-minute changes made to our gowns and dealing with the tailors was a nightmare. Don’t I look pretty though?” She stepped back and twirled around, showing off her gown to her new lover.   
  
Millicent smiled at her, her cheeks flushed. “Beautiful as always.”   
  
Thurstan chugged their glass of wine before snatching Savaric’s and chugging his as well, ignoring the other alpha’s offense. Gilbert just calmly reached over and poured both of them a fresh glass, giving Thurstan a warning look as Millicent and Clara moved out to the dance floor.   
  
Thurstan only frowned, sipping their wine slower this time and pointedly looking away from where the two women were dancing.    
  
  
Aziraphale giggled as Crowley pulled him into his office but his laughter was cut short when he was slammed into the wall and Crowley began kissing him hungrily. Aziraphale made a small noise against his fiance’s mouth and moved to pull his shirt from his trousers. Meanwhile, Crowley’s hands roamed down his body, burning hot through the sheer fabric. 

He pushed Crowley back and the alpha, surprisingly, complied and allowed Aziraphale to pull his shirt over his head. Crowley’s eyes were dark in the dim room as he cupped Aziraphale’s cheeks and pulled him into another hungry kiss, moving one hand to grip Aziraphale’s waist and knead at the soft flesh. His voice was very near to a growl as he spoke, “So fucking beautiful… You’re mine. You’re all mine.”   
  
“I am!” Aziraphale assured, melting against the heat of his alpha’s body as their kisses grew in intensity. He pulled away with a small moan, taking a deep breath as Crowley’s hand moved to cup his arse. “What are you going to do to me?”   
  
“Whatever you want,” Crowley murmured, moving to kiss and nibble on the omega’s neck over his bonding glands. 

“Be-Before, when I was in heat… you were going to put your mouth on me, weren’t you?” Aziraphale asked him, his face flaming.    
  
Crowley suddenly picked Aziraphale up by his thighs before walking him over to the desk and sitting him on the edge. Crowley sat in his chair, that Aziraphale belatedly noticed looked more like a throne, and spread his own legs to emphasize the bulge in his trousers. Aziraphale absentmindedly licked his lips as the sight and Crowley smirked. “Pull your skirt up and let me see you.”

Aziraphale eagerly did so, blushing when Crowley guided his feet to prop them up on the arms of the chair. Crowley gripped his already-wet knickers and pulled them over his thighs, hopefully not having the patience to tease at this point. Aziraphale was feeling rather impatient.   


Crowley paused to stare at him, reaching forward to tease at his entrance. Aziraphale blushed and moved to press his thighs together but was quickly stopped by his amused alpha. “Oh no, angel, don’t hide from me.”   
  
“Can- Can you please?” Aziraphale stuttered out, blushing. “I couldn’t stand it if you teased me.”   
  
The alpha’s lips twitched as he pressed the tip of one finger against his entrance. “Who’s teasing? I’m just admiring.”   
  
“But I want you to…” Aziraphale trailed off, unsure of what to say.   
  
“What do you want me to do, angel? You can say it,” Crowley murmured, already moving into position. He kissed Aziraphale’s groin, achingly close to his sex.    
  
“I told you before,” Aziraphale pouted, his cheeks still flaming.   
  
“I want to hear it again,” Crowley responded pragmatically before kissing Aziraphale’s inner thigh, still so achingly close.   
  
“P-Please put-” Aziraphale bit his lip, weighing the consequences of his wording, both good and bad. “Please fuck me with your tongue,” he said instead, moving his hand to grip Crowley’s hair. “Please, alpha-Oh!”   
  
Crowley hadn’t even let him finish his sentence before he’d flicked his tongue across his entrance. Golden eyes flicked up to meet blue as Crowley ran his tongue up Aziraphale’s sex before running up his hardened nub. Aziraphale felt his mouth twist into a soundless moan as Crowley moved his mouth over him and sucked. The noise ripped out of him then and he ground his face against Crowley’s eager mouth, greedily chasing the pleasure that clever tongue was bringing to him.    
  
The alpha pulled away with a wet pop before returning to lapping at his entrance before swirling his tongue and breaching him with it. Aziraphale moaned low in his throat and fell back against the desk as Crowley fucked him with his tongue, eager to please his omega just as he was asked. Aziraphale didn’t realize he was orgasming until his toes curled and he cried out. He whimpered when Crowley didn’t stop. “I’m- I’m finished, dear-”   
  
Crowley pulled back, his chin dripping wet. “I’m not.”   
  
Aziraphale blushed and laid back again, smiling at the pleased noise his alpha made. “Alright then, carry- Crowley!” His hands flew to grip crimson hair as the alpha went down on him again.

Crowley pulled away with a small chuckle. “You’re much too coherent right now.”   
  
“I thought you wanted me to be coherent so I could consent,” Aziraphale panted out, sitting up to look at his fiance.   
  
“Yes, at the beginning. You’re still making complete sentences so obviously I need to work harder,” Crowley gave Aziraphale a cocky grin before getting back to ‘work.’    
  
“You’re an absolute _cad_ while rutting,” Aziraphale moaned out, his toes curling as Crowley spread him apart with his thumbs for better access.

Crowley hummed in agreement against him before chuckling when Aziraphale playfully pulled on his hair in ‘retaliation.’ He worked Aziraphale through another orgasm before pulling back and taking in Aziraphale’s blissed-out expression with a smug grin. “You say I’m a cad but you’re a hedonist so I do believe we’re well-matched, hmm?”   
  
Aziraphale could only mumble a small noise in agreement before giggling as Crowley rolled him over and smacked his arse. “Crowley!?”   
  
“I want very badly to fuck you but I’m not  _ that _ much of a cad,” Crowley teased, brushing a finger against Aziraphale’s sensitive sex and chuckling at the startled noise he made. 

“A shame,” Aziraphale finally strung words together. “I want  _ very _ badly for you to fuck me too.”   
  
“Cheeky,” Crowley chuckled again, positioning Aziraphale’s legs together. “Keep your thighs closed alright?”

Aziraphale heard shuffling fabric and moaned as he felt Crowley’s cock slide in between his thighs. “You feel big…”    
  
“Size doesn’t matter,” Crowley scoffed, sounding amused. “But I  _ am _ an alpha, so…”    
  
“You’re  _ such _ a cad! Are you always like this?” Aziraphale felt laughter bubble forth, despite their situation.   
  
“You’re the one commenting on my size,” Crowley retorted, nipping at Aziraphale’s neck over his bonding gland. “Speaking of size, I love your arse.”

“Not too soft?” Aziraphale asked him quietly.    
  
“No, just right. I love soft. Big soft fan, me,” Crowley told him, peppering his neck with kisses. “More of you to hold when I make love to you.”

“You should mark me,” Aziraphale told him suddenly, causing Crowley to pause from lazily rocking his hips.   
  
“Ngk- Really!?” Crowley sounded genuinely shocked. “You’d let me do that!?”   
  
“You’re going to be my husband in a few weeks and while that may make it obvious we’ve been far less than chaste throughout our engagement… I find that I’m beginning to no longer care what anyone thinks of me. You’re a good man and you make me feel good. I want you to mark me.”   
  
“ _Only_ if you reciprocate,” Crowley told him quietly. “I won’t mark you and put you under my thumb.”   
  
“So you’re fine with being under _mine_?” Aziraphale attempted to joke, hoping Crowley couldn’t feel his pounding heart.   
  
“I want us to be _equals_ in _all_ things,” Crowley corrected softly. “If you’re in this to that extent, so am I.”   
  
“I will then.” Aziraphale blushed as Crowley began picking up his pace, clearly having put aside his own needs for too long. 

It didn’t take long before Aziraphale felt something catching as Crowley pushed in between his thighs and he realized with a flush of arousal that it was a knot. “Crowley! Crowley! Please!”   
  
“Want me to knot you? Fill you up?” Crowley growled in his ear before moving to suck at his bonding gland. “You’re mine.”   
  
“I’m yours!” Aziraphale agreed, pushing back against Crowley’s knot. 

“I’m yours,” Crowley repeated, almost too soft to hear before biting down at the same time he climaxed. It hurt but the pleasure that followed and whited out his vision quickly overrode the pain in his neck as his alpha claimed him as his own.

Aziraphale relished in the noises Crowley made as his body shook and shuddered behind him, clutching him close as the alpha leaned over him and panted against his back. “Fuck, angel…”   
  
“Crowley… I hate to be a bother but um… my thighs are covered in your… erm, spend…” Aziraphale blushed as he felt some dribble down, as if to emphasize his point.   
  
He felt Crowley’s lips curl into a grin against his back before he pulled away. Aziraphale wondered for a moment what he was doing before he felt a tongue lick up the back of his thigh. “Crowley!”   
  
The alpha only hummed as he finished cleaning Aziraphale up before repositioning Aziraphale to face him. Aziraphale leaned forward and nosed against Crowley’s mating glands just below his collarbone before biting down, breaking the skin. Crowley made a low noise and cupped Aziraphale’s cheeks as he pulled away. “Wasn’t as scary as it sounded, huh?”   
  
“No, not at all,” Aziraphale told him, giddy and smiling. “Thank you.”   
  
“No, thank you,” Crowley giggled along with him. “I’m mated to the most perfect omega in all of Heaven and Hell.”   
  
“Oh hush,” Aziraphale chided. Aziraphale knew Crowley was just humoring him but the words were still nice to hear. 

They made it back to the ballroom doors and Crowley glanced at the large clock on the wall, looking amused. “We’ve only been gone for an hour!? Damn, imagine if we weren’t in a hurry.”   
  
Aziraphale had a sneaking suspicion that Crowley not being in a hurry while lovemaking made for delicious torture for Aziraphale, not that he minded.    
  
Their names were announced yet again and the doors opened. Aziraphale felt most of the guest’s eyes zero in on the freshly made mark on his neck as he walked, proudly showing it off. 

Millicent narrowed her eyes at Crowley as the two of them approached where she and Clara were standing. “I told you to be careful with him!”   
  
“He’s fine!” Crowley told her dismissively. “A bit shaky in the legs but otherwise, completely fine.”   
  
Aziraphale blushed as Millicent grabbed his chin and tilted his head to examine the mark. “The two of you really couldn’t wait for two weeks?”   
  
Clara giggled, peering over her shoulder to look as well. “Oh, don’t be like that, kitten! I think he looks lovely with a mark and it’s cute they’re so in love they couldn’t wait.”   
  
Crowley and Aziraphale both shifted awkwardly at her words and Millicent rolled her eyes, clearly done with the two of them for the moment. “Alright, I’m getting away from this.”   
  
“Yes, it’s probably best we get a wiggle-on as well,” Aziraphale told them awkwardly, beginning to walk away.   
  
“What!?” Crowley squinted, confused.   
  
“We’re going… to get wine?” Aziraphale tried.   
  
“I get that, it’s the ‘wiggle-on,’” Crowley shook his head, amused, before walking after him.

Aziraphale’s heart was racing as he found himself a glass of wine. Did he and Crowley really seem like they were in love!?    
  
What complete and utter nonsense.   
  
He glanced over at Crowley to find the alpha was looking at him, his eyes softened in the corners. Aziraphale felt himself relax slightly. “I suppose we aren’t ditching the ball this time?”   
  
“Unfortunately, my dearest friend, we have to announce our engagement to the kingdom,” Crowley responded, smirking into his wine glass.

Aziraphale laughed at that. “Oh? Did the two of us showing up late with matching marks not get the message across?”   
  
“To be fair, you can’t see mine because it’s under my shirt,” Crowley told him, mock pouting.   
  
“Oh, you poor thing,” Aziraphale mock pouted back. “Perhaps I should bite you again?”   
  
“I’ve created a monster,” Crowley lamented, not looking at all apologetic as he stepped closer and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Bite me all you want, angel.”

Aziraphale blushed hotly.

  
  
Yes, this was all complete and utter nonsense.

  
Yet… there was something quite ineffable about the nonsensical game they were playing. 

  
Aziraphale tried not to think about what it meant to  _ lose _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale: Mark me as yours so I'll only be yours and you'll only be mine because you're going to be my husband and father of my children <3
> 
> Also Aziraphale: LOL why would people think we're in love?


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you missed sword fighting, you're in for a treat lol

Aziraphale shifted restlessly in bed, going into his third hour of doing so. With a huff, he threw back the covers. He needed to tire himself out a bit. Staying home and not being able to use a sword was making him quite restless. Douglas practicing with him had helped but Douglas had been gone for nearly two weeks. Too long, in Aziraphale’s opinion. He hadn’t realized how much he’d grown used to the other man’s company.   
  
He pulled a dressing gown over his nightgown before peeking out the doors, noting the guards were preoccupied playing a game of chess. He silently thanked them for being terrible at their jobs as he quietly slipped out into the corridor before making his way to the king’s training rooms.   
  
The training room was dark and eerily quiet when he entered, which worked just as well for Aziraphale. He liked the quiet solitude. He lit a single candle for adequate lighting before removing his dressing gown and grabbing a practice sword.   
  
His first few swings were off and so was his footwork. He frowned. He was beginning to grow soft with as little practice as he’d been getting.   
  
Aziraphale corrected his footing and stance before swinging again, smiling when he saw improvement. “Well, I suppose you use it once and you never forget. I just have to get back into practice.” His voice seemed loud in the quiet room.   
  
He closed his eyes and envisioned an enemy in front of him and swung out, imagining what their next move would be. A parry, perhaps? He practiced a counter and whirled around his imaginary opponent, imitating the fluid motions he’d seen Crowley use. Hmm… the response to that would be a good feint? Aziraphale deflected a faint and whirled again, dancing around his opponent as he imagined different ways he could be attacked and how to protect himself. He whirled and swung, going in for the ‘kill’ and his sword connected with something solid.   
  
Aziraphale opened his eyes in confusion and startled backward, nearly tripping. “Crowley!? My dear, you scared me.”   
  
Crowley’s eyes were dark in the dim light of the room as he lowered the training sword he’d used to block Aziraphale’s attack. “What were you doing just now?”

“I was erm… well you see, uh… Douglas taught me to use a sword and I was just getting in a little practice,” he sputtered out, panicking.

“Well, you’re quite good at it,” Crowley commented, not sounding at all mad. “I’m just concerned about why you’re out this late. Did your guards not see you?”  
  
Aziraphale relaxed. “I couldn’t sleep.” 

Crowley’s demeanor softened then. “Well, while we’re both here, perhaps you could let your dear fiance give you a few lessons?”  
  
Aziraphale blushed. “You’re not… mad?”   
  
“Mad? Why would I be mad?” Crowley asked him, tilting his head in confusion.   
  
“Because… well, don’t you like that I’m soft?” Aziraphale asked him quietly.   
  
“I like _you_. I told you before, I’ve never gone for the meek and gentle partners,” Crowley told him firmly. “Now, I noticed you’re imitating Douglas a bit but I think everyone should have their own flair to their fighting. It helps keep enemies on their toes.”

Aziraphale blushed as Crowley stepped up behind him and covered Aziraphale’s hands with his own where they gripped the sword. He leaned down to nip at his ear. “See, you already have me on my toes, with that lack of clothing. I don’t think you understand how I felt, finding you here spinning around like a knight in battle while wearing nothing but a nightgown.”  
  
“Well, I suppose if I have you on your toes already, I may not need lessons? Perhaps we should skip straight to sparring?” Aziraphale flirted back, smirking when Crowley made a small noise and let go of him.   
  
“Alright, we’ll do that. It’ll give me a better idea of what you need to work on, regardless,” Crowley told him, moving to pick up the training sword he’d sat down. “Alright, you move first.”   
  
Aziraphale lunged and Crowley skirted around his attack, moving with that same frightening speed he had during the tournament. Aziraphale was ready for it this time. He whirled quickly and aimed for where Crowley would be when the attack landed, smirking when his plan worked.   
  
Crowley batted his sword away with a laugh. “Don’t look so smug yet, angel. I was going easy on you because you’re a beginner.”   
  
Feeling confident, Aziraphale mock pouted at him. “Oh, don’t do that. It’s terribly rude.”   
  
Crowley bit the inside of his cheek, clearly amused, before lunging into a surprise attack. Aziraphale just barely dodged and quickly had to recover from his shock to deflect Crowley’s next attack. _This_ was more like it.

The once silent room was now filled with gasping breaths of exertion, jeering taunts, and the sound of their swords hitting against one another as they danced around one another, neither of them quite getting the upper hand.   
  
Aziraphale finally found an opening and moved in for an attack when Crowley suddenly jumped over him, just as he had in the tournament. Aziraphale was ready this time and had his sword at Crowley’s throat faster than the other man could react. He smirked at his fiance. “Why, my dear, would you use the same old trick? Need I remind you that I watched you in the tournament?”

Crowley’s eyes darkened considerably and Aziraphale lowered his sword, worried. “Did I upset you-” He was cut off as he was pulled into a heated kiss. He sighed against Crowley’s lips as he dropped his sword in favor of wrapping his arms around the taller man’s neck.   
  
They eventually pulled away for a ragged breath and Aziraphale stared up at him. “That was unexpected.”   
  
“I liked that,” Crowley growled playfully, pulling Aziraphale impossibly closer and nipping at his mark. “My strong, witty omega.”   
  
Aziraphale blushed hotly but his retort dissolved into a moan as Crowley bit into his mark, as if to renew it. He clung to Crowley, helpless to do much else as his alpha nibbled and licked at his bonding mark.   
  
The sound of a clearing throat broke the two of them apart. Aziraphale quickly moved to grab his dressing gown, equal parts embarrassed and disappointed at the interruption.   
  
Crowley spoke to their surprise audience. “Douglas, you have the worst timing as always.”   
  
Douglas snorted, looking amused. “I did the two of you a favor. Perhaps the bedroom play should stay in the bedroom.”

Aziraphale blushed as he approached the two men to stand beside Crowley. “Douglas, I didn’t expect you back so soon. It’s so late. You should’ve rested up before traveling… and why did you come here first?”  
  
Crowley cleared his throat, “I’m sure you have news for me but the two of us will talk later. Angel, let’s get you back to your room.”

“But…” Aziraphale trailed off, unsure of what to say. Why was Douglas in the training room this late… why was Crowley? Why would Douglas have to meet with Crowley as soon as he was back from standing in as The Black Knight? He thought back to Thurstan returning from a mission and his immediate meeting with Crowley, about how it to precedence over even seeing Millicent.  
  
Aziraphale was so caught up in his thoughts he didn’t realize they made it to his room until he heard Crowley tell the guards that they didn’t see Crowley enter the Prince’s rooms this morning.

“Here you are, I’m sure you’re tired enough to sleep now-” Crowley prattled on, moving about tucking Aziraphale in.  
  
Aziraphale stared at him. No. He couldn’t be. There was no way he could’ve ever been so blind. “Crowley… if you had a secret, you would tell me, right?”   
  
Crowley blinked at him for a moment before sitting down and cupping his cheek. “What brought this on?”   
  
“I’m just… it may sound ridiculous to ask this but who are you?” Aziraphale asked him, pulling at a loose thread in his duvet. 

Crowley grabbed his worrying hand and pulled it to his lips to press a kiss to his knuckles while he tilted Aziraphale’s head to face him. His eyes were sincere as he spoke. “I’m Prince Anthony Crowley, Prince of Hell and Regent of Heaven, and I’m about to have the best title, _your husband_ .” 

“No one else?” Aziraphale asked him quietly, calming down.  
  
“No, just me, I’m afraid,” Crowley told him, smiling softly before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Now, get some sleep. Your dress fitting is tomorrow, isn’t it?”

Aziraphale frowned at his reflection as the tailor flitted about him, making last-minute adjustments to his gown.  
  
Millicent snorted in amusement from where she and Anathema sat. “My, you’re grouchy this morning.”

“I… well, I’m confused. In my heart, that is,” Aziraphale told them quietly.  
  
Millicent frowned then. “You don’t wish to marry Anthony?”   
  
“No! It’s not that,” Aziraphale blushed. “I do want to marry him and I’m terribly excited to be his husband… It’s something else. I’d rather not say until I’m sure.”   
  
She relaxed considerably before standing up. “Alright, Savaric should be out of his meeting so he’ll be here in a few minutes to spend time with you. I have to go locate my brother.”   
  
Anathema stood as well. “I have to attend a council meeting in a few minutes as well. You look lovely though, Aziraphale. Crowley will likely faint.” 

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Millicent laughed as they approached the door. “He’d cry like a baby. Sentimental thing, he’s always been.”

Aziraphale laughed at that, his tension easing, as his friends left. A few moments later the door opened and Douglas walked in, staring at him with wide eyes. “You look gorgeous.”  
  
“I do quite like the dress,” Aziraphale agreed, patting at the skirt and accidentally annoying his tailor.   
  
“I meant you,” Douglas told him, still staring. “Anthony is a lucky man to have you.”   
  
Aziraphale blushed, wringing his hands. “Thank you, I’m lucky to have him as well.”

The tailor pulled back and examined the dress, frowning. “It needs… something.”  
  
“Pearls, perhaps?” Supplied Douglas.   
  
“Pearls!” the tailor agreed. “I’ll be back shortly!”   
  
Once alone in the room, Aziraphale spoke up. “Is... Is Crowley a liar?”   
  
Douglas seemed to weigh his words carefully before speaking. “That’s a hard question to answer. He will redirect the truth at times and omit some details but he’ll rarely just outright lie and he certainly wouldn’t lie to you.”   
  
“I asked him who he was and he told me he’s the Prince of Hell, Regent of Heaven, and my future husband,” Aziraphale told him quietly. “Is that the whole truth?”   
  
“Truth is subjective. If that is the answer he gave you, then that is what matters to him, truly. For example, if you were to ask me who Anthony is, I would tell you he’s a brother and a dear friend. What would he be to you?”   
  
“My future husband, my protector, my dearest friend,” Aziraphale told him, blushing. “The only person who truly understands me and what I want.”   
  
“See? Truth is subjective,” Douglas told him with a smile. “So smile. You’re to be married in a few days and I won’t have you frowning.”   
  
“I suppose I can smile a little, if you insist,” Aziraphale teased back.   
  
Douglas stepped forward and grabbed his hand before kneeling in front of him. “I promise on my sword that I will in the future be faithful to my Queen, never cause him harm, and will observe my homage to him completely against all persons in good faith and without deceit.” To seal the oath, he pressed a light kiss to Aziraphale’s knuckles.   
  
Aziraphale felt his blush rise, thinking of Crowley’s own words as he spoke. “I’m not a queen.”   
  
“You will be,” Douglas told him, his voice holding confidence. “In the eyes of the knights that serve Prince Crowley, you’re both already our King and Queen.”   
  
Aziraphale smiled genuinely, then. “I accept your fealty, Sir Douglas.”

“Do we all have to do that?” Savaric’s voice spoke up, sounding amused. “Because if I do, I want an _actual_ smooch.”   
  
“Oh, hush, you menace,” Aziraphale laughed as Douglas stood up.   
  
“I suppose I should go find my sister before she decides it may be in her best interest to become an only child,” Douglas told them with a grin. “Again, Aziraphale, the dress looks stunning on you. Anthony will definitely cry.”   
  
Savaric nodded in agreement. “Oh, most definitely. Remember when he cried at my knighting ceremony?”   
  
“He cried at Millicent’s as well,” Douglas laughed at the memory before bidding the two of them adieu and promising to return with Milly before leaving. 

Savaric whistled lowly after Douglas left. “It must be nice to have the two most handsome alphas in all of Heaven and Hell, save for Gilbert because he’s from Gaia, in love with you.”  
  
“Neither of them is in love with me,” Aziraphale huffed. “Besides, Douglas completely supports my marriage to Crowley.” 

“I wasn’t saying it’s a bad thing, it just must be nice is all,” Savaric laughed. “Now on to more important things, like this stunning dress.”

“The tailor is adding in pearls, on Douglas’s suggestion,” Aziraphale told him, twirling to show off the elaborate gown.  
  
“The gold is a nice touch and Douglas is right, some pearls would really help the gold stand out more,” Savaric observed before taking a seat.   
  
The door opened and Aziraphale frowned when a stranger entered the room. “Hello, are you my tailor’s assistant?”   
  
The man was tall and handsome, with dark skin, braided hair, and a charming smile. “I suppose you can say that. I am taking a bit of his workload, after all.” Aziraphale stiffened as the man pulled out a dagger. “Now be a good boy and come with me. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Aziraphale bristled, angry. “How dare-”  
  
“Aziraphale don’t you DARE ruin that dress! Let me handle this!” Savaric snapped, standing up and drawing his sword as he faced the strange man. “Who are you, anyway?”   
  
The man flashed his charming grin, but there was a flirtatious glint in his eyes as he observed Savaric. “Kione of Gaia, pleasure! What’s your name, gorgeous?”   
  
“Savaric of Heaven,” Savaric told him, raising his sword. “Your enemy this evening. You see, I don’t take kindly to my friend being threatened.”   
  
“A shame,” Kione responded, winking. “I would’ve loved to treat you to dinner.”   
  
“I’m married!” Savaric gasped, blushing hotly. “Happily so!”   
  
Aziraphale spoke up from where he was backing into the corner. “Your marital status isn’t the priority here, Savaric. Kick his arse!”   
  
“I will! Just make sure I don’t get blood on your dress! In fact…” Savaric assessed Kione for a moment while swinging his sword around. “Nah, it won’t be a problem.”

He lunged at Kione and the man quickly deflected, using his dagger. Savaric stepped back a bit, assessed him, and attacked again. Kione easily countered his attack, but instead of injuring Savaric, merely pushed him away. “I told you before, I have no interested in bloodshed this evening.”  
  
“Alright,” Savaric responded, a gleam in his eyes. “Perhaps we should just fight hand to hand? If you manage to knock me out, it’ll be all too easy to kidnap Aziraphale.”   
  
Aziraphale gaped at him, scandalized. “Savaric!”   
  
Savaric ignored him. “However, if I knock you out... You’d be all too easy to arrest and my master doesn’t take kindly to his omega being threatened. Execution is quite possibly in the cards for you.” 

Kione smirked in response. “I’ll take it.” He tossed his dagger out of reach before reaching behind himself and pulling out two twin curved blades and tossing them as well. He gestured at Savaric.  
  
Savaric stared unflinchingly as he tossed his sword. He made a show of stretching and cracking his knuckles. Aziraphale noticed the size difference between the two men and nearly smack himself in the forehead. Savaric was outmatched, for sure.   
  
Kione swung first and Aziraphale watched in complete shock as Savaric blocked his blow before grabbing his hand and using it as leverage to jump up and wrap his legs around Kione’s neck before bringing him to the floor in a chokehold.   
  
Savaric gripped him tightly, not reacting to the struggling man, as Aziraphale watch in shock. He… took him down so quickly. That was just a little terrifying.   
  
Suddenly, Douglas was there, pulling Savaric off of Kione. “That’s enough.”   
  
“He was trying to kidnap Aziraphale-” Savaric began.

“He won't when he finds out that Aziraphale is Crowley’s mate,” Douglas told him firmly. 

Kione sat up, gasping for breath. He and Douglas locked eyes and Kione grinned. “Douglas? What on earth are you doing here!?” He looked past Douglas to where Millicent now stood by Aziraphale’s side. “Milly! You’ve grown up so much!”  
  
Savaric and Aziraphale exchanged a confused look.

“So tell me, where’s my dear Gilbert?” Kione asked, grinning.  
  
Everyone in the room shifted awkwardly as Savaric’s face turned an angry shade of red. “My _husband_ is busy with Prince Crowley.”

Kione looked nonplussed as he eyed Savaric. “Wow, lucky bastard.” It was unclear whether he was talking about Gilbert or Savaric.

Douglas pinched the bridge of his nose. “On to more _pressing_ matters, why would you want to kidnap Aziraphale?”   
  
“I didn’t _want_ to kidnap Aziraphale, I was _paid_ to. The orders were to take him unharmed.” Kione shrugged. “I didn’t know he was Crowley’s mate or I would’ve refused. It is odd though.”   
  
“Why?” Aziraphale spoke up, trembling.   
  
“Because King Lucifer was the one who hired me.”

Aziraphale's dress is something like this:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gilbert's hot ex has entered the chat LOL


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late-ish update!! Work is hectic. I may have scarce updates for the next 2-3 weeks because I have two major trips coming up, both of which I won't have time to write. :(
> 
> CW: the use of ether to knock someone unconscious

Douglas pinched the bridge of his nose. “On to more pressing matters, why would you want to kidnap Aziraphale?”

“I didn’t  _ want _ to kidnap Aziraphale, I was  _ paid _ to. The orders were to take him unharmed.” Kione shrugged. “I didn’t know he was Crowley’s mate or I would’ve refused. It is odd though.”

“Why?” Aziraphale spoke up, trembling.

“Because King Lucifer was the one who hired me.”   
  
The room fell silent, but not in shock. Everyone was a range of angry to exasperated.    
  
Douglas covered his eyes with a groan. “Bloody bastard. Anthony is going to be furious.”   
  
Kione eyed Aziraphale as he stood up, still gripping his sore neck. “I suppose I owe you an apology. I wouldn’t have attempted to kidnap you if I had known you were Crowley’s mate. He’s an old friend of mine and that means much more to me than money.”   
  
Savaric stepped in between them as if to shield Aziraphale. “You shouldn’t have attempted it to begin with.”   
  
“A man has to make his living somehow,” Kione reasoned, holding his hands up placatingly. “Not everyone is a proper gentleman cut out for the chivalrous lifestyle of a knight.”   
  
“Oh?” Savaric drawled, crossing his arms. “What sort of living are you cut out for then?”   
  
“I live freely,” Kione told him simply, shrugging. “I’m surprised you didn’t know. Gilbert doesn’t mention me?”   
  
Savaric’s face colored and Douglas took that as a queue to step in. He put a calming hand on Savaric’s shoulder and spoke up. “Savaric and Milly, stay with Aziraphale while he changes out of his wedding gown. Kione, you’re coming with me.”

“Aye-Aye, cap!” Kione smiled brightly, reaching out to grab Douglas’s hand teasingly.    
  
“Must you- Ugh, great to have you back, Kione,” Douglas said, a mix of annoyed and amused.

“Great to be back,” Kione responded as they walked out into the hallway, still holding hands. “Are we going to see Crowley?”   
  
“Yes, so we can find out if he’s gonna have you executed or not,” Douglas told him pragmatically.   
  
“Oh, that would be inconvenient for me. I like being alive…” Kione’s voice trailed off as the door closed behind the two men.   
  
Savaric muttered curses under his breath as he grabbed his discarded weapon. “I don’t trust that guy.”   
  
Millicent snorted in amusement. “You and Thurstan with being so cynical of newcomers. If it helps, I trust him. He’s an old friend of ours, from before the two of you joined our little  _ family _ .” 

“Were he and Gilbert lovers?” Savaric asked her.   
  
“Ask Gilbert,” Millicent told him, shrugging. “Your husband, your problem.”

Savaric rolled his eyes but said nothing else as he stepped behind Aziraphale and began unlacing the gown in the back.    
  
“He seemed friendly enough, though misguided. I don’t understand why King Lucifer would want me kidnapped?” Aziraphale wrung his hands. “It doesn’t make sense.”   
  
“Leverage, probably,” Milicent answered with a shrug. “He hates feeling as if he doesn’t have power over others. He clearly no longer has power over Anthony so he’s attempting to strike where Anthony is vulnerable.  _ You _ .”   
  
“I’m not a vulnerability to him,” Aziraphale scoffed, blushing. “The King has obviously been misinformed.”

Millicent and Savaric exchanged a look Aziraphale didn’t have much time to ponder on before Savaric swatted him on his rear. “Step out of the dress.”   
  
“You could ask nicer,” Aziraphale huffed as he stepped out.    


“Yes, I could’ve, but that’s significantly less fun than smacking your tush and telling Anthony about it later to see his reaction,” Savaric teased, laughing.   
  
  
Aziraphale pushed open the door to Crowley’s office to find his fiance, Douglas, Thurstan, Kione, and Gilbert all sitting around looking grim. Well, save for Crowley, who seemed to be contemplating murder. “My father, he’s on his way to the wedding as we speak, yes?”

Aziraphale moved to stand next to Crowley’s chair, reaching down to lay a comforting hand on his tense shoulder. Crowley absentmindedly reached up and squeezed his hand in response.   
  
Savaric pointedly didn’t look at Kione as he strode across the room and plopped unceremoniously in Gilbert’s lap. Gilbert didn’t seem to think much of his husband’s grouchy demeanor and simply wrapped an arm around his middle and pulled him closer, kissing him on the cheek before returning his attention to the conversation at hand.   
  
Douglas nodded, looking thoughtful. “He should be unless he had planned to have Aziraphale delivered to him back in Hell. In which case, we have our work cut out for us. Kione?”   
  
“The location in which I was told to hand off Prince Aziraphale is roughly forty miles from here, across the border. I have it marked on a map,” Kione supplied helpfully. “I don’t know if the King will be there but it’s worth a shot.”   
  
Crowley steepled his hands together, thoughtful. “That settles it, we’re going to the drop-off. We’ll head out tonight. Savaric, you’ll stay here to protect Aziraphale.”   
  
“I don’t want you to go. We’re all safest here,” Aziraphale told him quietly.   
  
“If word gets out about your attempted kidnapping and my doing nothing about it, that would send a clear message to whoever else may want to harm you. I’m ending this  _ now _ ,” Crowley told him firmly, allowing no room for debate.   
  
Aziraphale sighed, watching as Crowley’s eyes softened in the corners. Crowley looked away from him, addressing everyone else in the room, “I want to speak with Aziraphale privately.”   
  
Savaric stood up, jabbing a finger in Kione’s direction, “Are we killing him? Arresting him?”   
  
“We’re employing him,” Crowley told him firmly. “He’s going to lead us to the drop-off.”   
  
“Oh good, I get to live,” Kione chuckled, winking at Savaric, who was fuming. “So about dinner-”   
  
Savaric shouldered past him roughly, blushing scarlet. Gilbert walked after him but paused in front of Kione. “Stop antagonizing my husband,” he told him, his voice firm.   
  
“He’s pretty when he’s mad,” Kione defended playfully.   
  
Gilbert wasn’t smiling. “What we once were won’t stop me from killing you if you step out of line. Don’t forget that  _ your _ actions are the reason we were exiled from Gaia.”    
  
Kione finally stopped smiling and Gilbert stepped past him to exit the room without another word. 

Douglas placed a comforting hand on Kione’s shoulder. “Let’s get something to eat, yeah?”   
  
Millicent stood up from her perch on the corner of Crowley’s desk and grabbed Thurstan’s arm to pull them out of their chair. “Late breakfast, buddy? Let’s join my dear brother and old friend, I want pancakes.”   
  
Thurstan rolled their eyes but allowed themself to be towed after her, finally leaving Aziraphale and Crowley alone.   


Crowley stood, circling an arm around Aziraphale’s waist and pulling him into a hug, “You’ll be alright, angel. I’ll protect you.”   
  
“It’s not me I’m worried for,” Aziraphale admitted softly. “I don’t want you to go after him and get hurt.”   


“I’ll be fine,” Crowley assured him. “It’ll be one little overnight trip and I’ll be back in time for the wedding with room to spare.”

“Somehow, I don’t believe you,” Aziraphale told him softly.   
  
“Where’s your faith, dear fiance?” Crowley quipped, wiping at Aziraphale’s cheek. He hadn’t even realized he was crying. “I’ll come home safely. I promise.”

“You better, or else I’d have to marry one of those horrid knights,” Aziraphale joked weakly. “It would be a shame to waste such a pretty dress, after all.”   
  
“I mean, Douglas and Thurstan are both handsome, polite, and single,” Crowley joked back, leaning down to give Aziraphale a soft kiss. He pulled back with a small smile.   
  
“Oh, handsome, polite,  _ and _ single? What on earth am I doing with you?” Aziraphale teased, his voice getting breathless toward the end as his fiance pinned him between the desk and his body. He giggled as Crowley nipped at his mating mark. “Don’t get jealous, darling, I was teasing.”   
  
“Hmm, not jealous. I know you’re mine,” Crowley murmured in his ear, his voice low. “I was just thinking about our upcoming wedding night.”

This was clearly a distraction and Aziraphale cursed his weakness for his fiance as he gave in. If Crowley wanted faith, Aziraphale would give him that in  _ abundance _ . 

“Oh?” Aziraphale asked, his voice barely more than a gasp as Crowley gripped his arse through his gown. 

“Let’s go somewhere with a proper bed,” Crowley suggested softly, planting a small kiss on his cheek before pulling back.    


“Making sure you get your  _ wedding night _ ?” Aziraphale teased, blushing as his fiance grabbed his hand.   
  
“Oh, no. I’m just making sure my mate is satisfied enough to forgive my murder trip right before the wedding,” Crowley joked back, winking.

Crowley’s hands were on Aziraphale as soon as they entered his bedroom, gripping him tightly as the alpha ravished him with kisses.    
  
Aziraphale pushed at his chest to break apart for air, a hard feat with the heat of Crowley’s hands burning through his clothing. Crowley looked around the room, grinning as if he didn’t notice the effect he was having on the omega. “Where did the nest go?”   
  
“That was for my heat, you ninny,” Aziraphale responded, embarrassed. He moaned as Crowley moved to his neck and began biting and licking at his mating mark, apparently Crowley’s newfound favorite spot to ravish.    
  
Aziraphale felt Crowley’s hand on his back, expertly unlacing his gown with one hand while the other gripped his waist and held him steady. The gown was soon removed, leaving Aziraphale standing in only his knickers.

Crowley’s cock was straining against his trousers but the alpha seemed to be ignoring his own needs as he toyed at the hem of Aziraphale’s knickers. “May I put my mouth on you, angel?”   
  
Aziraphale glanced down at the tent in Crowley’s trousers and licked his lips nervously. “I was actually hoping I could… do that for you.”   
  
The alpha blinked at him, shocked. “You… you’re willing to do that?”   
  
“Oh, more than willing, dear boy. I want to quite desperately,” Aziraphale assured him, growing nervous. “I mean, you’ll have to teach me and I may not be good at it at first-”   


“Don’t worry,” Crowley interrupted softly, tilting Aziraphale’s chin up so the two of them could lock eyes “I’ll teach you.”

Aziraphale watched as Crowley moved closer to the bed, still holding his hand, and reached over to grab a pillow before dropping it to the floor. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Aziraphale closer before gently tugging down, wordlessly indicating for Aziraphale to get on his knees.    
  
Aziraphale wet his lips, nervous. “C-Can you take off everything? I want to see you,” he inquired, his face heating considerably.   
  
Crowley cupped his cheek before leaning down and giving him a tender kiss. “Whatever my mate wants, he gets,” Crowley told him softly.

“So I’ve noticed,” Aziraphale murmured, his heart pounding as he watched Crowley stand up.   
  
Crowley smirked at his staring. “Did you want a show, angel?” he teased.   
  
“Oh, hush,” Aziraphale chided, his face flaming. “But I mean, if you wanted to give me a show, I wouldn’t be opposed.”

Crowley’s grin was bordering on wicked as he pulled Aziraphale to his feet and gestured at the bed. “Have a seat then, angel,” he purred.

Aziraphale made a show of rolling his eyes but sat as he was told as his fiance stepped back with a grin.   
  
“You asked for this,” Crowley warned with a laugh. “Did you want me to dance a bit or to just take it off?”   
  
“Just take it off!” Aziraphale laughed, flustered.   
  
“Oh, boring,” Crowley winked, tugging his shirt over his head and making a show of throwing it at Aziraphale. “Add that to your wank collection,” he teased.   
  
“I might,” Aziraphale teased back, tossing the shirt behind him on the bed as Crowley began unlacing his trousers.

“I’ll have you know that this is  _ much _ more embarrassing than I thought,” Crowley told him, nearly tripping as he attempted to make a show of removing his overly tight trousers.   
  
“You? Embarrassed?” Aziraphale mock pouted at him, fighting back a laugh as Crowley held up his trousers triumphantly after having a hard struggle to get them off. Crowley naked was just as he’d imagined, save for his  _ effort _ being a bit longer than he expected. Aziraphale felt his mouth go dry as he roamed his eyes over his future husband. 

“Yes, well, usually I get the clothes out of the way and get to business. With you, it’s different. I want to make you happy,” Crowley mumbled, the tips of his ears turning red as he made a show of tossing his trousers at Aziraphale as he had done with his shirt.    
  
Aziraphale blushed as well before sliding off the bed and resuming his previous position on his knees, his back to Crowley. “I  _ am _ happy. Though, I would be much  _ happier _ if I was being given what I asked for.”

He felt Crowley’s hand stroke the top of his head and Aziraphale leaned into the touch, purring. Crowley sat on the bed in front of him and spread his legs before gripping Aziraphale’s hair firmly. “Alright, you fussy brat. If you want a cock in your mouth I’m all too happy to give you one.”

Aziraphale grinned at that, despite his nerves, before leaning in and licking the bead of precome at the tip of Crowley’s cock. The alpha hissed in a mix of pleasure and surprise, clearly having been expecting Aziraphale to wait for instruction. Aziraphale didn’t give his fiance much time to react before he was on him again, eagerly licking the head of his cock before attempting to swallow him down. He didn’t get far before he gagged and Crowley pulled him off.   
  
“Angel, easy there!” Crowley chuckled, clearly flustered. “I was going to warn you about that.”   
  
Aziraphale wiped at his wet eyes caused by his gagging, embarrassed. “This worked in the novel I read earlier this week,” he told the alpha, pouting.    
  
“Yes, well, your dirty books aren’t looking for realism are they?” Crowley teased, clearly not put off by Aziraphale’s fumbling attempt.

“I’m sorry I’m bad at it,” Aziraphale murmured, wringing his hands.   
  
“You’re not bad at it, you’re new,” Crowley assured him. “Now, take it slowly, and if you feel like you’re about to gag you don’t have to go any further.”   
  
“In the novel, he took it all down,” Aziraphale muttered almost mutinously.   
  
“Well, if you want to gag on my cock, I will  _ not _ stop you but I just want you to do whatever makes you feel most comfortable,” Crowley told him, his lips twitching in clear amusement.

Aziraphale nodded in understanding before tentatively gripping Crowley’s cock and stroking him back to attention before leaning in and repeating what he had done earlier, only this time he only took the tip into his mouth.   
  
Crowley moaned, low in his throat, as he petted Aziraphale’s curls and helped guide his pace. “You’re doing so good,” he praised softly, stroking Aziraphale’s cheeks. Aziraphale opened his eyes and looked up to see Crowley’s eyes lock with his and darken considerably.   
  
“This feels almost sacrilegious, seeing you like this,” Crowley murmured, his voice rough. “You look no less angelic with a cock in your mouth.”

Aziraphale moaned at the praise, taking Crowley’s cock deeper into his mouth with renewed confidence.    
  
Crowley seemed to enjoy that reaction because his grip tightened on Aziaphale’s hair as he kept speaking, his voice growing more rough and uneven. “You’re a natural at this angel. I love being the one you trust like this, the only one allowed to see you this way,” he praised, swiping the spit dribbling down Aziraphale’s chin with his thumb as if to emphasize his point. 

They lapsed into relative silence after that, the only noise in the room being the soft noises Crowley made and the slick noise of Aziraphale taking Crowley into his mouth. Suddenly Crowley gripped Aziraphale’s hair and gently pulled him off in time to come all over the omega’s chin, a good majority of it dripping onto his chest.

Crowley’s breathing was ragged as his body relaxed from his orgasm but that didn’t stop the amused twitch of his lips. “Is there a problem, angel?”   
  
Aziraphale pouted, a painfully arousing sight considering the amount of Crowley’s spend on his face and chest. “I thought you’d come inside me.”   
  
“That would be a bit rude without permission,” Crowley chuckled, pulling Aziraphale up and onto his lap.   
  
Aziraphale allowed himself to be pulled onto his fiance’s lap, straddling him, as Crowley ravished him with kisses, seemingly uncaring of where Aziraphale’s mouth has been the past few minutes.   
  
“Now,” Crowley murmured, pulling back, “let’s get you taken care of, alright?”   
  
Aziraphale buried his face in the crook of Crowley’s neck as his fiance reached a hand into his knickers, cupping his arse and kneading it while the other hand splayed across Aziraphale’s back, pulling him closer until their bodies were sliding against each other. He pulled away suddenly, blushing, “should I clean up first?”   
  
Crowley didn’t answer, opting to just pull him closer and kiss him deeper.   
  
Aziraphale let out an embarrassing squeal as he was suddenly picked up and flipped onto his back, Crowley braced between his spread legs and already trailing kisses down his neck and chest, uncaring of the mess between them.

Crowley’s mouth found it’s destination and Aziraphale arched his back and gripped his fiance’s hair as he got what he wanted for the  _ second _ time that night.

Millicent rolled her eyes at a joke Kione was telling their group as they were served wine. Thurstan was staring at their goblet, looking pensive, and mostly ignoring the group while Douglas and Kione reminisced about old times Millicent was too young at the time to be privy to. She glared at her pancake as if it was what was causing her frustration.   
  
The barkeep, an omega with curly blond hair, eyed Douglas with obvious interest before walking away, swaying his hips in a way that definitely caught Douglas’s attention.    
  
Millicent kicked Douglas under the table, drawing his attention to her. “Can you not find a shag when I’m right here? I’ll be scarred for life!”

“I wasn’t trying to find a shag,” Douglas told her, clearly embarrassed at having been caught by his little sister. 

“You were! It was gross!” Millicent told him petulantly.   
  
“Fine! I was, I’m sorry!” Douglas laughed, holding his hands up. 

“He looks like Crowley’s mate,” Kione observed, eyeing the barkeep.

“Douglas has a thing for blonds,” Thurstan spoke up finally.   
  
“I do not!” Douglas responded, offended.   
  
“Oh, sorry, a fetish,” Thurstan corrected with a sarcastic wink.   
  
“I find two blond guys attractive and suddenly it’s something I seek out?” Douglas asked them, deadpan. “That seems about right.” He turned back to look at the barkeep as he wiped down a table. “Though… I am going on a dangerous trip…”   
  
Kione gave Douglas an encouraging pat. “Go for it, you are handsome and charming and you deserve it!”   
  
“If I go, who’s going to watch you?” Douglas asked him suspiciously.   
  
“I can watch you and the cute blond,” Kione suggested, winking.   
  
“Let’s  _ not _ ,” Douglas sighed, clearly giving up on shagging the barkeep.

Millicent sighed in relief, leaning against Thurstan’s shoulder out of habit and blowing a lock of hair out of her face. “I need another haircut,” she observed.   
  
“I’ll help,” Thurstan offered, gently shrugging her off their shoulder before standing up and holding out their hand. “We’ll use actual scissors this time,” they added with a small smile.   
  
Millicent took it, smiling back. She turned to her brother. “I’ll see the two of you when we head out tonight.”   
  
“Alright, lizard,” Douglas grinned at her and she blushed at her childhood nickname as Thurstan chortled next to her.   
  
They exited the tavern, hand in hand, not seeing the cloaked figure observing them from across the street.   


Thurstan finished up Millicent’s haircut and gestured at the mirror. “How’s that?”   
  
“Oh, much better. Though I do think the choppy look was quite fetching,” Millicent quipped, running her hands through her extremely short hair. “Thank you for cutting it.”   
  
“You’re welcome,” Thurstan told her, putting the scissors down. “We should probably pack for the trip-”   
  
“Have I made you angry?” Millicent asked them suddenly.

“No, never,” Thurstan told her quickly, stepping closer to cup her cheek and tilt her head up to look at them. “Why would you think that?”   
  
“You’ve been avoiding me and acting strangely,” Millicent pointed out, shifting her eyes away from their face. 

“It’s just… different right now… with you seeing Clara,” Thurstan told her carefully. “I don’t want to impose-”   
  
“You’re my best friend,” Millicent interrupted, frowning. “How would you be imposing?”   
  
“You know why,” Thurstan told her firmly.    
  
“It’s not as if you still have feelings for me,” Millicent told them, her smile not meeting her eyes. “You made that clear enough. Clara knows there isn’t anything going on between us.”   
  
Thurstan didn’t react except to stroke Millicent’s cheeks absentmindedly, lost in thought.   
  
“I just… I don’t want to ever lose you and I fear that sometimes you’re drifting away… and one day you’ll drift too far and I’ll lose you forever,” Millicent admitted, painfully vulnerable. Millicent rarely showed this side of her. She was only ever truly vulnerable around three people: her brother, Crowley, and Thurstan.   


“That will never happen,” Thurstan assured her, leaning in to press their forehead against hers. “I will never drift far away from you. Never you.”

“But you did,” Millicent told them quietly. “Please… just tell me what I did wrong back then. I’ll fix it-”   
  
Thurstan drew back, putting distance between the two of them, their jaw tense. “You did  _ nothing _ wrong, Millicent. I did.”   
  
“I forgive you, whatever it was,” Millicent insisted, her eyes brimming with tears. “I don’t understand why things have to be this way.”

Thurstan’s eyes pricked with tears as they wiped a stray tear from her face. “We’re better off this way. I know it’s hard to understand but please trust me.”   
  
“I trust you,” Millicent told them, frantically wiping at her eyes. Just like that, the vulnerable girl that was in front of them was gone, replaced by the woman she had grown into. She plastered on a fake smile as she spoke, “I think I should go check on Clara before I leave. I know you think she’s suspicious but-”   
  
“Does she make you happy?” Thurstan asked her, not quite looking at her.   
  
“Yes,” Millicent answered. The unspoken fact that no one made Millicent as happy as Thurstan did hung heavy in the air between them.   
  
“If she makes you happy then I will make an effort to be nice to her,” Thurstan told her, smiling reassuringly. “I’ll erm… see you later?”   
  
“Yes, later,” Millicent agreed softly before practically fleeing from the room.

Thurstan sunk into the nearest chair and buried their head in their hands, fighting the urge to run after her and tell her everything, beg her to understand.   
  
They’d called Clara suspicious, insisted she had to be lying. What a foolish and petty thing to say when in reality, the only one who’s lies had the power to harm Millicent was Thurstan, and they were too much of a selfish bastard to stay away from her.

“I’ll never drift far from you, my love. Never you,” they spoke to the empty room. “But you should drift far far away from me.”   


Crowley met up with his companions at the stables. “Douglas, where’s the armor?”   
  
“I have it saddled to your horse already,” Douglas told him. “Aziraphale isn’t coming to see you off?”   
  
“Nah, he’s asleep,” Crowley told them, his lips twitching. “Gilbert and Millicent are the only one’s getting a sweet departure this evening.”

Millicent made a rude gesture at Crowley’s teasing before giving Clara a farewell kiss. Crowley noticed the way Thurstan looked anywhere but that general direction and frowned to himself. Something must’ve happened.   
  
Gilbert peppered a grouchy Savaric’s face with kisses while murmuring promises for when he got back in between. They finally pulled apart and went in for one final lingering kiss before Gilbert mounted his horse and blew Savaric another kiss for good measure.   
  
“Awe, sweet,” Kione muttered within earshot of Crowley and Douglas. It was unclear whether he was being genuine or sarcastic. It was always hard to tell with Kione.

With a few instructions from their leader, the group set off for their destination.   
  
The Black Knight was going to do what he did best.

Aziraphale felt the bed dip next to him and he nuzzled down into the pillows, comfortable in Crowley’s shirt and pleasantly satisfied. “Crowley, dear?”   


He was met with silence and frowned in confusion before rolling over just to come face to face with a stranger.   
  
His scream was cut off with a hand over his mouth and nose, holding a cloth that smelled pleasant but pungent. He struggled and bucked but to no avail.

It wasn’t long before his vision went dark.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY!


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a slightly shorter chapter than normal because I felt bad for my lack of updates in the past few weeks. Starting next week, they should be back to normal! Thank you for your patience!
> 
> CW: Violence, drugging

Aziraphale slowly opened his eyes, wincing at the pounding in his head as he looked around the unfamiliar room, disoriented.    
  
“Oh, you’re awake,” an unfamiliar voice spoke up.   
  
“Who are you?” Aziraphale asked the man, attempting to focus on him but failing.   
  
“Doesn’t matter. We’ll be rid of you soon enough. You wouldn’t believe the large sum we got for you despite you being mated already,” the man laughed. “What the hell did you do to catch a king’s attention?”   
  
“Nothing too spectacular really,” Aziraphale quipped weakly. “His son just didn’t want to own me is all.”   
  
“Feisty,” the man chuckled and Aziraphale felt a hand in his hair, wrenching his head up as a cloth was pressed over his mouth. “I hate to disappoint, but your alpha can’t save you from us, prince or not.”

Aziraphale attempted to jerk away from the sweet smell but it was no use, his limbs were still weak from the first dose and the alpha’s hand was strong.   
  
He slumped forward, his cheek to the floor. He saw a familiar face then, a face he’d know anywhere as his vision darkened around the edges. “Douglas?”   


“Who?” A second voice questioned.   
  
“He’s probably hallucinating from being drugged. Ignore him.”   
  
Aziraphale slipped away into unconsciousness.

Douglas began frowning as they got closer to their destination. “How much further?”   
  
Kione eyed his map. “Around ten kilometers from here. Why?” 

“I think something’s wrong,” Crowley spoke up suddenly, frowning.   
  
That caught everyone’s attention but Douglas spoke first. “What do you mean?”   
  
“Aziraphale is distressed,” Crowley told them, tensing. “I don’t know how I know that but I do and I need to get to him, now.”   
  
“Alright, do we need to turn back?” Douglas asked, already on high alert at the mention of the omega’s distress.   
  
“He’s in the direction we’re going,” Crowley responded, frowning in the distance. “We need to move faster.”   
  
  


Aziraphale woke up again, this time rightly pissed. “I don’t suppose you boys ever learned some manners?” he called out rhetorically, sitting up and wincing at the vertigo the action produced.

“Manners don’t buy booze and omegas, sweetheart,” one of the men laughed. Aziraphale didn’t have to look to know the man was eyeing his bare thighs.   
  
With a sigh, he opened his eyes and made himself focus. The first thing he saw was Douglas… well, a painting of him. A younger girl with dark hair stood next to him, his hand resting protectively on her shoulder. He realized with a start that the girl was Millicent. So that must mean this must be one of their estates.    
  
If he knew Millicent at all…   
  
“I’m cold,” he complained, pouting as he addressed the two sloppily dressed men in the corner of the room.   
  
“So?” one of the men asked, rolling his eyes.   


“ _ So _ , I demand you fetch me a cloak and some shoes. I can tell by the decor that a wealthy family owns this estate you commandeered so I believe the omega of the house’s clothing would be adequate,” he responded haughtily, channeling the persona he carried before Crowley broke down those walls he had up.    
  
The men exchanged a look, clearly unsure about following orders from an omega.   
  
“Was I unclear?” Aziraphale prompted, arching his brow and boring his blue eyes into them until they shifted uncomfortably.   
  
“Will it stop your bitching?” one asked, grimacing.   
  
“It may,” Aziraphale told him, his grin sharp.

One of the men left and came back a few minutes later with a dark purple cloak and a black pair of thigh-high boots. Aziraphale hoped he was right about Millicent’s clothing as the man untied him long enough to don the boots and cloak before tying him back up.    
  
Otherwise, he’d look absolutely ridiculous for nothing.

Douglas groaned as they approached the outskirts of the village. “King Lucifer gave those mercenaries my bloody house! Damn bastards probably ruined my rugs and raided my wine cellars.”

“Aziraphale is close by,” Crowley commented, ignoring his friend’s rant.    
  
“It’s a bit strange you can sense him,” Thurstan observed.   
  
“It happens sometimes between mates,” Millicent informed their group. “It’s a rare phenomenon known most commonly as ‘true mates.’ It’s said they’re a set perfectly suited for one another and after reciprocating mating marks, they can sense one another’s presence and emotions to a certain extent. I’ve never heard of an alpha sensing his omega over ten kilometers away though. Your bond must be strong.”

“She’s like an encyclopedia,” Kione laughed. Gilbert shot him a glare and he put his hands up defensively. “In the best way! Come on, you know I wouldn’t tease Millicent!”   
  
“I  _ don’t _ know what you’d do, actually. You’ve proved that well enough,” Gilbert snapped, turning away.

“Fair, but I think while we’re addressing my faults I think we should address yours. Let’s start with that pretty little husband of yours. Does he know who you really are or do you just keep it in the dark?” Kione responded, his voice was nearly a snarl.   
  
Gilbert suddenly veered his horse into Kione’s path, his eyes blazing. “Mention my husband again and I will run you through, here and now. I won’t warn you again.”

“Guys, we don’t have time for this!” Millicent snapped but was ignored.   
  
“Why? Because you know he deserves better than to be lied to!?” Kione pressed.   


“Kione! Stop,” Douglas snapped, moving into their space. “We have other priorities here.”

“Where did Crowley go?” Thurstan asked suddenly.   
  
Everyone looked to see their friend had wandered off by himself.   
  
“Oh fuck, now he’s being an idiot,” Millicent groaned. “Let’s go before he gets himself killed.   
  
Aziraphale slowly shifted until he was sitting with his calves under his thighs and his feet next to his bound hands. He winced as he fought against his binds to feel along the heel of the boots for a compartment. Aziraphale smirked when he felt one and pressed, sighing in relief when he heard the click of a small dagger springing free.    
  
Oh, sweet darling _reliable_ Millicent, always carrying a concealed weapon.

He quickly gripped the knife as best he could and began cutting at his binding, eyeing the mercenaries as they played cards and drank fine wine, probably stolen from the cellars.   
  
Aziraphale broke free of his binding but kept his hands together behind his back, gripping the small dagger. He cleared his throat to catch their attention. “My alpha is probably coming for me soon and he’s going to be quite angry.”

The mercenaries exchanged an amused look before one stood and walked over to him. “I told you, sweetheart, your alpha can’t save you. We’re a large group and he’s only one man.”   
  
“Oh, dear me, you must’ve misunderstood,” Aziraphale giggled. “I never said anything about him rescuing me, just that he is going to be  _ quite _ cross.”   
  
Before the man could react Aziraphale sprang to his feet and drove the dagger into the man’s jugular before quickly stealing his sword and turning to the other man in the room.

The other mercenary jumped to his feet but wasn’t fast enough to avoid the omega running him through with his deceased comrade’s sword.

Aziraphale kicked the door open and stepped out into the hallway, counting five head of mercenaries. He grinned, sharp and wicked. “Hello boys, would any of you be so kind as to lead me to the king?”   
  
They all drew their swords and Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “I suppose that’s a no, then.”

Crowley nearly jumped at the hand on his shoulder but immediately calmed when he realized who it belonged to. “Millicent, for fucks sake-”   
  
“Don’t disappear on us. We don’t know what we’re walking into-” Millicent began.   
  
“There are forty-two outside, twelve of them are on guard duty and are walking rounds. I haven’t seen any villagers as of yet.   


Suddenly, several men ran out of the largest estate, shouting something the two of them couldn’t make out.   
  
Millicent sighed, bone-tired. “Why does it have to be mine and Douglas’s house?”   
  
“What’s going on in there?” Crowley mused. “They look quite frightened.”   
  
“Don’t know, don’t care. Let’s move while they’re distracted,” Millicent suggested.   
  
Crowley barely had time to turn before he saw a flash of silver. He shoved Millicent out of the way and barely had time to raise his sword to block the blow.    
  
He looked at his opponent and paled, disbelieving.   
  
“What… why would you attack me? I thought we were allies!?” he grunted, pushing against his opponent’s sword.   
  
The White Knight said nothing as they sidestepped and moved to attack once again.   


Aziraphale snatched his sword back and stepped away as the dead mercenary slumped to the floor. He checked yet another room and frowned to find it empty. This was becoming so tedious.   
  
He had a king to kill, after all.

Many, many rooms later, Aziraphale kicked a door in exasperation. Was the king even here!? Or was he sitting in his palace like a coward!?   
  
He sighed, realizing it was probably the latter.   
  
Oh well, he needed to procure a horse and to get home before Crowley starts a war for his sake.   
  
Aziraphale heard footsteps behind him and whirled, wielding his blade. He barely stopped short of separating Savaric’s head from his shoulders.   
  
He dropped his sword, sighing in relief. “Oh, I’m so sorry, dear boy! I thought you were another mercenary.”   
  
Savaric frowned, tilting his head. “If you’re in here… who’s out there fighting The Black Knight!?”   
  
“He’s here!?” Aziraphale gasped, alarmed. He picked up his sword, just in case the prophecy to give him a small death was about  _ actual _ death.   
  
“Yeah, and you’re here!” Savaric exclaimed, waving his hands in alarm. “What is going on!? I came to rescue you, which took _so much_ tracking, to find a mass slaughter and I thought  _ you _ were fighting The Black Knight-”   
  
“Why?” Aziraphale interrupted him, paling considerably. This wasn’t sounding good.   
  
“Someone’s in your armor,” Savaric told him. 

Crowley whirled and dodged the relentless attacks, finally having given up on reasoning with the other knight. Millicent made an attempt to help in the fight but The White Knight barely paid her any mind and didn’t seem to want to injure her. This was a single-minded and focused attack, it seemed. 

He blocked a skillful blow and panted in exertion. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with my engagement, does it? Because you broke up with me… at least it felt like a break-up.”

The White Knight didn’t respond and moved quickly, swinging their sword downwards at him. There was a sudden metallic clang of a dagger hitting a sword and both knights turned to see a hooded figure standing nearby.   
  
“I kindly suggest you fuck off before I remove your head,” a familiar voice spoke up. “I think it’s best to go ahead and inform you that I do not  _ ever _ bluff.”   
  
Crowley blinked in shock as The White Knight backed away, clearly not wanting a fight with them. They sounded like… but no, Aziraphale was tied up and needed his help. He felt a fierce need to defend his mate and he knew it was overriding his better logic but he couldn’t ignore it.   
  
“You’ve interrupted The Black Knight, foolish one, but you have found your death,” he warned, hoping they would get out of his way so he can search for his fiance. He was so close, Crowley could sense it.   
  
The person stilled for a moment before making a scoffing noise and flipping their hood back, approaching him. “Crowley? Is that you under there!?” Aziraphale asked him, looking a mix of surprised and exasperated.   
  
Crowley blinked in shock and opened his visor. “Angel? What the devil are you doing out here!? I was coming to rescue y-”    
  
He was cut off as Aziraphale pulled him down into a fierce kiss.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and I love comments and kudos!! <3


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have had SO MUCH going on, I'm so sorry for the slow updates! This is another short-ish chapter BUT the next chapter will have a lot of fluff and smut :)
> 
> Thank you for all your patience with me!

“You’ve interrupted The Black Knight, foolish one, but you have found your death,” he warned, hoping they would get out of his way so he can search for his fiance. He was so close, Crowley could sense it.

The person stilled for a moment before making a scoffing noise and flipping their hood back, approaching him. “Crowley? Is that you under there!?” Aziraphale asked him, looking a mix of surprised and exasperated.

Crowley blinked in shock and opened his visor. “Angel? What the devil are you doing out here!? I was coming to rescue y-”

He was cut off as Aziraphale pulled him down into a fierce kiss.

Crowley’s response was immediate. He wrapped his arms tightly around his omega and squeezed him, running his fingers through blond curls as he deepened the kiss.

They both pulled back a bit breathlessly, staring at one another. Aziraphale had a strange expression on his face, one Crowley had never seen before.  
  
The alpha was the first to break the silence. “You silly thing, I was on my way to rescue you.”   
  
“I was bored of waiting and you were running a bit late,” Aziraphale teased, still a bit breathless. “Are you upset with me?”   
  
“No, I’m just so glad you’re alright,” Crowley told him, laughing despite their situation as he cupped Aziraphale’s cheeks and swiped his thumbs over them gently. “I felt your distress and was worried-”   
  
“Felt my distress?” Aziraphale interrupted, frowning.

Crowley realized then, with a sinking feeling, that Aziraphale didn’t feel their bond the same way he did. He’d heard about true mate bonds being one-sided before but when faced with it, he truly understood the heartbreak it could cause.  
  
Luckily, Millicent saved Crowley from being obligated to respond. “If the two of you are finished, I’d like to inform you both that The White Knight got away and there are still mercenaries left. Or should I leave the two of you alone while we do all the work?”   
  
“Oh, shut up!” Crowley said with a scowl. “Aziraphale’s done most of the work for us already, anyway.”   
  
Millicent tilted her head, assessing Aziraphale. “Are those my boots?”

“Yes?” Aziraphale responded, sheepish.  
  
“Did you find the dagger compartment?” Millicent asked him with a grin.

  
  


Savaric cut down one of the mercenaries before turning to another, trying not to focus on the fact that he had yet to find Gilbert. He could only hope his husband was alright and try to stay alive. The mercenary he killed slumped to the ground and Savaric took a moment to catch his breath but was suddenly slammed into from the side by a hard body.  
  
He and Kione rolled on the ground a few feet before finally stopping, Kione on top and pinning Savaric down. Savaric struggled against him but Kione was bigger and held him down tightly. “Savaric, calm down-”   
  
A round of ballistic bolts shot past where Savaric had just been standing. It had all happened in less than a second.   
  
“Oh,” Savaric observed, blushing. “They set up a ballista…”   
  
“‘Oh,’” Kione mocked, frowning. “Did you think I was trying to hurt you?”   
  
“Well…” Savaric trailed off, realizing their position. He blushed furiously and batted at Kione’s chest to make him sit up as he did the same. “Since you have helped me already I think you should-” Savaric said but was cut off when Kione pushed him back down and another round of ballistic bolts shot past   
  
Savaric groaned, covering his face. “Please tell me we aren’t stuck here.”   
  
Kione looked around. “I see Gilbert making his way to the ballista.”   
  
“Speaking of Gilbert,” Savaric huffed, shoving Kione off of himself. “I think you should find less compromising positions when rescuing people.”

“Yeah, let me make sure I don’t hurt your delicate sensibilities when trying to rescue you,” Kione groused.  
  
“Excuse me?”   
  
“I don’t get a thank you? Some bit of gratitude?” Kione asked him, actually looking hurt. “Or are you going to hate me because of Gilbert and I having history?”   
  
“So you were lovers?” Savaric asked him quietly as they crawled to a safer place to wait until Gilbert took down the ballista.   
  
“We were more than that,” Kione told him, a bitter edge to his voice. “Though you don’t have to worry about me making any advances on Gilbert and ruining your _perfect marriage_.”

“More than that?” Savaric asked, something curling in his stomach.

“Yeah, Gilbert didn’t ever tell you he was engaged before?” Kione asked him, frowning. “That was with me.”  
  
“Of course he told me,” Savaric lied, plastering on a neutral expression. “Gilbert doesn’t lie to me.”   
  
“I can tell that you’re lying,” Kione sighed, leaning against the wall they’d taken cover behind. “I’m sorry, I truly don’t wish to cause problems. If Gilbert lied to you I’m sure he has his reasons. He loves you. A lot. I could tell when he threatened to kill me for mentioning you earlier tonight.”   
  
Savaric hugged his knees to his chest and didn’t respond, unsure of what to say.

“I feel like I caused a problem,” Kione observed.  
  
“I’m not speaking of mine and my husband’s problems with someone else, assuming there is a problem at all,” Savaric told him, his hackles rising. 

“Why do you dislike me so much!?” Kione asked, exasperated.

“Because you-” Savaric broke off, unsure of what he was about to say.   
  


_Because you being close makes it hard to think._

_Because you loved the man I love once and you obviously know sides of him I don’t._

_Because you make me feel something I shouldn’t feel for anyone but him._

“Savaric? Sweetheart!?” Gilbert called to him, rushing to help him up from where he’d been leaning against the wall. Savaric watched silently, a knot in his throat as his husband quickly assessed him for injuries before pulling him into a hug. “I had no idea you were even here until I realized where the mercenaries were aiming the ballista! I was so worried!”  
  
Savaric hugged him back, working past the knot in his throat to speak. “I was worried for you too, my love.”   
  
Kione cleared his throat. “Gilbert, we have company.”   
  
Gilbert groaned in annoyance and let go of Savaric before stepping in between his husband and the mercenaries surrounding them on all sides. “How many more of these bastards are there?”   
  
“Probably a lot,” Kione told him, shrugging casually as if they weren’t outnumbered and surrounded. “Gaian mercenaries like safety in numbers.”   
  
“Numbers won’t be granting them safety this evening,” Gilbert spoke loudly, making sure the mercenaries could hear him, before lunging at the closest one he saw.

Crowley led while Aziraphale and Millicent flanked his right and left, all their swords were drawn. “Aziraphale, whatever happens just stay behind us so we can protect you.”  
  
“Are you kidding me!?” Millicent burst out, laughing a bit hysterically. “He’s the reason they were running scared!”   
  
“I’m sorry,” Crowly apologized, addressing Aziraphale. “It’s an alpha thing.”   
  
“I don’t mind it,” Aziraphale told him, smirking. “It’s a bit cute, really.”   
  
Millicent snorted and Aziraphale’s smirk grew as Crowley made an embarrassed sputtering noise. 

A familiar shout caught their attention and the three of them ran in the direction of the noise.  
  
Douglas sat on the ground, clutching a bleeding Thurstan. “They jumped in between me and a mercenary that was attacking me from behind!”   
  
Millicent removed her helmet and rushed to the two of them, removing her cape and pressing it against Thurstan’s wound. “You bloody idiot-”   
  
“It was me or Douglas,” Thurstan gasped out weakly. “It’s fine, just a scratch really. You should see the other guy.”   
  
Aziraphale could tell even from his vantage point that it was most definitely more grave than a scratch.

“Stop joking!” Millicent snapped, her hands shaking. “Can you hold this to your wound while I help you to safety?”  
  
Thurstan grunted in pain but did as she asked before allowing Crowley and Douglas to help them up. They leaned heavily on Millicent’s side and she inclined her head in the direction of the manor. “Did you clear the place out?”   
  
“Thoroughly,” Aziraphale told her confidently.   
  
“Good, we’ll hide there while I see to Thurstan’s injury.” 

“We’ll take out the rest of the mercenaries and locate the villagers before joining you,” Crowley told her. “Aziraphale you can-”  
  
“I’m staying with you,” Aziraphale interrupted him firmly.   
  
“Alright, Douglas, you can go with Thurstan and Millicent to stand guard,” Crowley amended. “Aziraphale, you will accompany me.”   
  


It took roughly another hour to find the remaining mercenaries, reunite with Gilbert, Savaric, and Kione, and locate the villagers in hiding and let them know that the mercenaries were no longer occupying the area.  
  
Savaric sighed in exhaustion, sitting on the edge of the village well. “I could sleep for a week after this nonsense.”   
  
The mention of sleep reminded Aziraphale of the drug-laden exhaustion he’d been clamping down with adrenaline throughout the knight. “Crowley, darling…”   
  
“Yes?”   
  
“I think I need a hand,” he told his fiance just as his knees buckled. A strong arm wrapped around his waist immediately and caught him.

“You must be exhausted,” Crowley observed, reaching down to pick up Aziraphale behind his knees in order to carry him bridal-style.

“I am quite exhausted, yes,” Aziraphale told him, yawning and leaning his head against Crowley’s shoulder.

“Just go to sleep angel, I got you.”  
  
Aziraphale was helpless to do anything else.

Crowley slammed his fist on the table in anger. “That fucking bastard better pray to whatever gods will listen that he and I never cross paths again.”

The group, aside from Savaric and Aziraphale, who were both sleeping in the bedchambers on the other side of the wall, were all standing in Douglas’s bedroom suite.  
  
“Are you sure King Lucifer is that smart though, to guess our every move?” Thurstan asked from where they and Millicent sat on the couch, jerking and hissing in pain as Millicent sewed their wound shut.

“Stop moving,” Millicent told them, swatting them gently on their bare chest.

“I agree with Thurstan,” Kione spoke up. “There’s no way he would’ve known you’d leave that quickly. It’s unlike you. Your plans usually are calculated and well thought out.”  
  
“So what? We have a spy?” Douglas asked, his brows furrowed.   
  
“No one in my presence would _dare_ ,” Crowley told the group, his voice turning to a low growl. “At least, I’d hope they have the presence of mind to understand the consequences of harming my mate are _fatal_.”

“Perhaps it was just luck,” Douglas mused.

“Either way, it won’t happen again,” Crowley told them. “I’ll be assigning Savaric as Aziraphale’s personal guard.”  
  
“Savaric would love that,” Gilbert mused, smiling fondly.   
  
“I know, Aziraphale would too,” Crowley responded, smiling as well, despite the situation.   
  
“Crowley?” Aziraphale’s muffled voice came from the other room.   
  
Crowley cast an apologetic look at his friends before rushing to his fiance’s aid. “Angel, is everything alright?”   
  
Aziraphale gave him a soft and relaxed smile, his hair sticking up and his face creased from the pillows. It was so terribly adorable. “Yes, darling. I was just frightened when you weren’t here.”

Crowley sat on the edge of the bed and cupped Aziraphale’s face, smiling at the happy purr and wiggle it caused. “I’m never far from you, angel.”

“Shut’up!” Savaric grumbled in his sleep, rolling over and looping an arm around Aziraphale before snuggling against his side.  
  
Aziraphale giggled while Crowley scowled at his friend. “Rude little bugger while sleeping, isn’t he?”

“Oh hush, he’s exhausted. He tracked me down himself and then helped with all the fighting,” Aziraphale admonished him. 

“Speaking of,” Crowley began, frowning. “Is there something we need to talk about?”

Aziraphale took a steadying breath, weighing his options. He could confess to being The White Knight now or he could play it safe and find out who the imposter was and bring them to justice rather than risk losing Crowley’s trust in him…

“What do you mean?” Aziraphale asked innocently.  
  
“Come on,” Crowley whispered, appearing to be more exasperated than angry at the blatant lie. “You were happy I was The Black Knight.”   
  
“Well, you saved me before when I snuck out,” Aziraphale responded truthfully.

“Oh? I don’t remember that… it must’ve been Douglas or Thurstan,” Crowley frowned as he spoke, lost in thought.  
  
Aziraphale stroked along the tendons in Crowley’s hand that was still cupping his face. “It could be the armor. It looks quite fetching on you…”

Crowley cast a wary look at Savaric, who was still curled against Aziraphale’s side. “If he wasn’t here…”

“You’d what?” Aziraphale prompted his fiance, sliding the hand cupping his face to his lips and kissing his fingers gently. “You’d touch me?”  
  
“I’d do more than that, I assure you,” Crowley promised, his eyes turning molten as Aziraphale licked the tip of his finger. 

Aziraphale smirked at the expression on his fiance’s face before placing a chaste kiss on his palm and letting go of his hand. “Shame he is here then, I do enjoy being touched.”

The door opened then and Gilbert poked his head in. “Is he still asleep?”  
  
Aziraphale took that as a queue and gently disentangled from his friend, who grumbled in his sleep before opting to cuddle the closest pillow instead.   
  
Gilbert gently picked Savaric up, chuckling as Savaric grumbled at the pillow. “Douglas had some servants prepare the two of you a room and bath,” he whispered, taking care not to wake his sleeping husband up.

Aziraphale felt a lot of his confidence leave him as they entered the guest room Douglas had prepared for them. Why didn’t he give them separate rooms? Surely this wasn’t proper.

Crowley’s hands found his shoulders and squeezed gently before sliding down, leaving a trail of goosebumps across Aziraphale’s skin. “You may want to bathe before the water gets cold.”

Aziraphale took the hint and began unlacing the shirt he’d been given to sleep in before pulling it over his head. He shivered at the weight of Crowley’s gaze on him and he hoped his blush wasn’t noticeable as he pulled his knickers off, bending down to do so.

He heard a sharp intake of breath and felt his confidence grow as he approached the massive tub and stepped into the water, dunking his head underneath before sitting back up and pushing wet hair back from his forehead.

“Darling, aren’t you going to join me?” Aziraphale asked his fiance, finally turning his attention to him.

Crowley’s mouth was open slightly, his pupils blown out. “Right-ngk- Yes, I’ll join you.”

Aziraphale watched Crowley undress and giggled as Crowley hissed at the temperature of the water before sitting down. The omega smirked as he moved to sit in his alpha’s lap, cupping his cheeks.   
  
“Anthony?” 

“Yes?” Crowley prompted, his hands already roaming over Aziraphale’s naked body.  
  
“I think you should make good on your promise from earlier.”

Crowley smiled then, pulling Aziraphale into a passionate kiss, neither of them caring when water sloshed over the edge of the tub.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone wanna make guesses on the Gilbert situation :D lol


	18. Chapter Eighteen

“Anthony?” 

“Yes?” Crowley prompted, his hands already roaming over Aziraphale’s naked body.  
  
“I think you should make good on your promise from earlier.”

Crowley smiled then, pulling Aziraphale into a passionate kiss, neither of them caring when water sloshed over the edge of the tub.

Aziraphale felt Crowley’s erection sliding against his sex under the water and moaned into the kiss, grinding against him and hoping his fiance would take the hint.  
  
For seemingly the first time, Aziraphale knew without a shadow of a doubt what he wanted.

“Anthony, fuck me,” he gasped out against his fiance’s lips. “Please, fuck me until I know nothing but the feel of your hands and the way your name tastes on my tongue.”

Crowley pulled Aziraphale closer, dragging one hand in a sensuous motion down his wet back while the other hand reached for something behind Aziraphale.

Aziraphale gasped in shock when Crowley suddenly dumped shampoo in his hair. “Crowley!?”  
  
“Angel, we’re filthy and battle-worn and as arousing as it is that you have some secret badass side, I want the two of us to be clean and relaxed if we’re going to do this, yeah?”   
  
“You don’t seem interested,” Aziraphale huffed petulantly, struggling not to lean into his alpha’s hands that were busy lathering shampoo into his hair.   
  
“I am quite interested, but I also take interest in making sure my mate is taken care of,” Crowley told him pragmatically, leaning up to kiss Aziraphale on the nose. “Now lean back so I can rinse the soap out.”   
  
Aziraphale leaned back, still in Crowley’s lap, and blushed at how exposed he felt. His body was on full display at this angle and Aziraphale wasn’t the only one who had noticed. Crowley slid his hands up along Aziraphale’s curves before finally moving to his blond curls to rinse them.

“I know you lied to me earlier,” Crowley told him, his eyes were nearly black in the dim lighting and his hands were still in Aziraphale’s hair. “Why?”  
  
“About what?” Aziraphale asked, playing innocent.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Crowley asked, one of his hands gripping onto Aziraphale’s hair firmly while the other moved to grip his waist possessively. “It’s just a bit odd, that you were kidnapped and got out unscathed. The White Knight backed down and obviously didn’t want a fight with you… is it because he loves you?”  
  
Aziraphale realized then how powerless he was in this situation. “The-The White Knight knew better than to fight me is all.”   
  
“Why?”   
  
“Because I would’ve won,” Aziraphale whimpered out, his thighs shifting against Crowley’s side. “Anthony, please- I’m yours-”

“Are you?” Crowley asked quietly, his grip loosening. “You lie to me far more than you speak the truth and you seem more interested in Douglas-”

“I didn’t mate with Douglas or just ask Douglas to fuck me, I asked you!” Aziraphale snapped, his temper flaring. “As far as who I belong to or where my loyalties lie, I tried to kill a _king_ for you earlier tonight. I cut down so many men without a second thought in hopes of finding the one that had _dared_ to disrespect _my_ mate!”

“I just want honesty-” Crowley began, clearly caught off guard by Aziraphale’s anger.  
  
“I just want you to trust that my loyalty lies with you!” Aziraphale shot back, sitting up and gripping Crowley’s jaw. “My loyalty is to my mate, my husband, my king-”

Crowley kissed him then, hard enough to bruise. Aziraphale kissed back, startled when he was abruptly shoved against the opposite end of the tub, Crowley grinding against him under the water as their kisses grew in both ferocity and passion.

Aziraphale opened his mouth to accept Crowley’s tongue as he wrapped his legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer as their wet bodies slid together.  
  
Crowley pulled back and Aziraphale sucked on his tongue as he did so, drawing a moan from the other man. “Aziraphale- fuck- Angel, we have to talk about this-” Crowley told him, his voice ragged as he leaned his forehead against Aziraphale’s. 

“Let me figure some things out and I’ll tell you the truth, all of it,” Aziraphale promised breathlessly. “Just please, don’t stop-”

Crowley growled then, gripping Aziraphale’s ass. “I’ll only drop this for now if you can promise me that whatever you’re hiding isn’t something that will endanger either of our lives.”

“No promises on that, darling,” Aziraphale whispered truthfully. “Like you, I don’t take kindly to being played for a sucker.”

Crowley groaned then, exasperated. “Angel-”

“Do you trust me?”  
  
“More than anything, even though you make it astonishingly difficult-” Crowley broke off as Aziraphale took his hand and placed it over his own heart. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to. It’s just a bit frightening, how much of myself I give to you… that I _want_ to give to you. I just need time.” Aziraphale told him, trembling. “I promise, I would never do anything that would cause you or our people any harm.”

“I believe you, angel. Just tell me when you’re ready,” Crowley assured him, standing up. “Now, I do believe I made you a promise earlier.”

Aziraphale was interrupted from appreciating the view when Crowley stepped out of the tub and grabbed a towel to wrap around his waist before grabbing another for Aziraphale.

“Come here, angel,” Crowley ordered. Aziraphale blushed at his tone before stepping out of the tub. He felt his blush spread down his chest as Crowley began toweling him off, getting on his knees as he worked the towel over Aziraphale’s legs.

Aziraphale’s hand was in Crowley’s hair before he even realized the action, making the alpha look up at him, his brown eyes molten. “You’re beautiful,” Aziraphale blurted.

“As are you,” Crowley responded, his long fingers moving to grip the sides of Aziraphale’s waist as Crowley’s mouth found its intended destination. His tongue flicked against Aziraphale’s nub before slithering in between the folds, tasting, and exploring all it could reach.

Aziraphale’s knees nearly buckled but Crowley held him in place before hiking Aziraphale’s leg up so his knee rested on his shoulder, gripping the omega in place as he ravished his dripping sex, using the change in position to breach his entrance.

“You- You feel so good-” Aziraphale managed to gasp out, tossing his head and arching his back with a broken moan as Crowley moved to suck on his hardened nub. “Fuck- Fuck-” He was pulling at Crowley’s hair as he approached his climax but the alpha didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he grew more insistent at pushing Aziraphale over the edge.

His vision whited out for a moment and he slumped, rolling his head back. “Crowley-” The alpha smirked against Aziraphale’s sex at the quiet plea before gently lapping his tongue against his entrance, greedy for the taste of his mate. Aziraphale just whimpered from the overstimulation, his hands falling from Crowley’s hair to stroke his cheekbones and jaw in reverence as his future husband gave him pleasure upon pleasure.

Crowley pulled back after what felt like both hours and minutes, his chin dripping with slick. “Let’s take this to the bed shall we?”

Thurstan groaned as Millicent dropped them unceremoniously onto the bed. “Could you maybe be a little gentler!? I was stabbed, you know!”  
  
“Oh I’m sorry,” Millicent drawled sarcastically, unlacing Thurstan’s shoes for them. “Maybe you’ve forgotten that you’re bigger than me?”

“Then why not let Douglas do this?” Thurstan groused, wincing as Millicent snatched their boot off harder than necessary. They paused, frowning when they noticed Millicent’s hands were trembling. “Milly?”  
  
“Why would you do that!?” Millicent nearly shouted. “You could have died! I could’ve lost you!”   
  
Thurstan closed their eyes, their hands twitching to pull her close and comfort her. They clenched their fists, keeping them at their sides. “Millicent, it was either me or Douglas. I didn’t really think much of it if I’m being honest.”   
  
Millicent furiously wiped at her tears and helped Thurstan under the blankets before walking around the other side of the bed and laying down on top of the covers, still clearly upset.

“I’m sorry,” Thurstan said after a moment. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”  
  
“How could you say that like you didn’t know it would upset me!?” Millicent asked them, her voice choked. “I was so scared!”   
  
Thurstan held out their arm and Millicent rolled until she was curled against their side. “Shh, don’t cry. I’m sorry, Milly. I truly didn’t know.”

Millicent sobbed against their chest for a while and Thurstan gently dragged comforting fingers through her short hair, knowing it was the most effective way to soothe her. Eventually, her sobs turned into smaller sniffles and Thurstan turned to face her. “If it helps you, I’ll let you kick my arse when I’m healed up.”  
  
She laughed then, a small ragged thing. “I’d like that.” She looked up at them and they both froze, their noses nearly touching.   
  
Thurstan broke the silence first. “Remember when we spent summers here, just me, you, Anthony, and Douglas?”   
  
Millicent smiled at the memory, turning away and staring at the ceiling. “Of course I do, I loved those summers, those nights you and I spent in this bed.”

Thurstan chuckled at that. “Remember that lover Douglas had? The one that distracted Douglas so I could sneak into your room?”  
  
“Chandler? I remember him,” Millicent burst into a fit of giggles, her tears dried for now. “I liked him.”

“I did too. Nice guy,” Thurstan laughed as well. “I miss this place.”  
  
They lapsed into a comfortable silence, both lost in thought.

“Thurstan?”  
  
“Yes?”

“What happened to us? What really happened?” Millicent asked them quietly. “You tell me to move on but I don’t think I can unless I know what happened.”

“I can’t… I can’t tell you,” Thurstan told her, shifting uncomfortably.

“Did you sleep with someone else?” Millicent asked, her voice small.  
  
“No! No, I would never do that to you,” Thurstan told her, wincing as they sat up.   
  
“Did you lose interest? Fall out of love with me?” Millicent asked, her chin wobbling.   
  
Something in Thurstan broke at that, to see the strongest person they knew in tears because they were too much of a coward to face the real problem and instead let Millicent go on thinking that she was the problem when that was so far from the truth.   
  
“Milly, no… no I never- I never lost interest or stopped loving you. Never,” Thurstan told her, their eyes brimming with tears.   
  
“Then what did I-” Millicent tried, confused when Thurstan grabbed her face.

Before she could react, they were kissing. Millicent made a small noise and wove her fingers into Thurstan’s hair, taking control of the kiss just as she had always done. Even time couldn’t change that.

They pulled apart for air and Thurstan pressed their forehead against hers. “You did nothing wrong, Milly. You were always far more perfect than I deserved,” they told her sincerely, cupping her cheek. 

“Stop talking,” Millicent rasped out, already pulling Thurstan in for another kiss. “Please-”

“What about-”  
  
“Clara and I aren’t exclusive, you idiot, just kiss me-” she cut them off, exasperated.

Thurstan hissed in pain when she straddled them and she paused. “Do you want to stop-”

“No, no, I’m good!” Thurstan insisted, pulling her into another kiss. “Just be gentle.”

She smirked. “Wasn’t I always gentle?”

“Oh, and can it be dark?” Thurstan added.  
  
Millicent paused at that. “Is there something you don’t want to see?”   
  
“There’s something I would prefer you not see if I’m being honest. Just erm, no roaming hands?” Thurstan tried, cringing slightly.   
  
Millicent gave them a gentle kiss. “Alright, I respect that. Though, there was never anything about you or your body I didn’t find beautiful.”

Thurstan shivered at her words as she leaned over to blow out the candle.  
  
They were tangled up in their passion before the wax had even cooled.

Aziraphale gripped onto Crowley’s hair, arching his back against the sheets. “Doesn’t your tongue ever get tired!?”

“Not when it involves your taste,” Crowley murmured against his sex. “Not to mention, I want you relaxed and loose for when I make love to you.”

“I do feel quite a bit of both now,” Aziraphale gasped out, pulling at Crowley’s hair in a plea for mercy.

Crowley allowed himself to be pulled away and instead began trailing kisses up Aziraphale’s body, paying extra attention to his middle. “You’re so damn beautiful...”

“Crowley, please-” Aziraphale begged, desperate now. 

“As my angel commands,” Crowley told him, sitting up and lining up with Aziraphale’s entrance. He rubbed a soothing hand on Aziraphale’s trembling thigh before bracing himself on the bed and moving to push in.

The door suddenly opened and Aziraphale flailed, jumping up and headbutting Crowley in the process. The two of them fell, covering their faces and groaning in pain as Douglas stood awkwardly in the doorway, covering his eyes. “I am so sorry!”  
  
“Haven’t you ever heard of bloody knocking!?” Crowley snapped, tossing the blanket over Aziraphale’s naked body to cover it before taking a corner to cover his groin. “What do you want?”

“I thought the two of you were waiting until marriage!” Douglas snapped back, uncovering his eyes. “What about _today_ got the two of you in the mood!? I, for one, am _very_ stressed!” 

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Crowley responded, rolling his eyes.  
  
“I could’ve spent my entire life without seeing your dick but here I am, scarred, mentally untethered, my eyes blinded-” Douglas prattled on.

“Douglas!”  
  
“Right, I was going to ask when the two of you wanted to head out. It’ll be a long journey back to the castle and we would need to move fast because Anathema is in charge apparently, while we’re all gone.” 

Despite everything, Aziraphale laughed.  
  
“Who made _that_ decision!?” Crowley asked, exasperated.   
  
“Savaric, when he left to find Aziraphale,” Douglas told them, clearly amused.

Aziraphale burst into a fit of giggles and nudged Crowley with his foot. “We have to save the entire kingdom from her tyranny!”

“Truly, when by the time we arrive back home she’ll have converted all of Heaven to a new religion and have everyone read her strange books,” Crowley joked, grabbing Azirpahale’s ankle teasingly.

Douglas glanced awkwardly between the two of them, waiting expectantly.  
  
“Give us a few hours,” Crowley told him, amused. Aziraphale still needs rest and I’m sure the rest of us do as well.   
  
When they were alone, the couple exchanged a wry look. Crowley pulled Aziraphale’s blankets back with a frustrated growl. “I’ll never forgive his transgressions this evening.”   
  
Aziraphale laughed at that, pulling Crowley into a chaste and playful kiss. “It’s alright, our wedding is in less than two days and that night, we’ll have as much privacy as we want.”

“In the meantime, we should rest,” Crowley told him gently. It’s going to take effort to be home in time.”

Aziraphale laughed from his perch on the front of Crowley’s horse at a joke Savaric told him. The journey back was going far smoother than expected and by Douglas’s estimates, they were going to arrive home before sunrise the day of the wedding. 

Thurstan and Millicent rode as far away from one another as possible, their tense silence noticeable to the entire group, though everyone was too polite to say anything. 

They weren’t the only ones though. Savaric, though he was laughing and talking with Aziraphale, he had barely said a word to Gilbert.  
  
Gilbert had obviously noticed the change in his husband’s demeanor but had apparently opted to not push him and instead let Savaric sort how he’s feeling and come to him first. 

Aziraphale silently prayed to whatever gods would listen that these things wouldn’t tear the group he’d come to think of as family apart.

Aziraphale had intended to crawl into bed when they arrived at the castle late that night but they were quickly intercepted by Newt. “Um… there’s someone here to visit the two of you?”

Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged a look and followed after him, barely noticing when their companions followed.  
  
The door to the grand library opened and Anathema sat down her cup of tea before standing up to bow. The achingly beautiful woman next to her stood as well but did not bow.   
  
Aziraphale, who had stepped a bit further into the room, saw a few things happen at once.   
  
Crowley and Douglas both tensed while Gilbert’s tanned skin turned oddly pale. Savaric was looking between Gilbert in the woman in confusion while Kione looked at him with… pity?   
  
The woman eyed Aziraphale, unimpressed, before turning to Crowley. “Anthony, it’s come to my attention that I may be of some assistance to you?”

Gilbert abruptly turned around and rushed from the room. The woman barely spared him a glance.   
  
She was shorter than Crowley but somehow seemed to be looking down at him. She was Gaian with dark, tanned skin, elaborate clothing, and a large hoop in her nose. Her dark eyes softened slightly at the corners as she reached over and touched Crowley’s shoulder. “How may I help?”

Crowley nervously stepped away and pulled Aziraphale to his side. “This is Aziraphale, my fiance.”

Aziraphale blinked, confused before the realization settled in. This was an ex-lover…  
  
“Ah, Prince Aziraphale of Heaven,” she stated, still sounding unimpressed. “How rude of me to not introduce myself, though the lesser should always introduce themselves first.

Aziraphale bristled at that but she ignored it, her lips curling in the corner. 

“I am Yahvi Amaira, Empress of Gaia.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First impressions of Yahvi and guesses on everyone's strange reactions?


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special shoutout to CandyQueen for helping me with the prophesies because I ~suck~ at writing them lol She's a helpful little possum :)

“I am Yahvi, Empress of Gaia.”

Aziraphale felt his jaw drop slightly but quickly closed it. “A pleasure,” he responded in a haughty tone.  
  
“With all due respect, Yahvi, who invited you here?” Crowley inquired, tightening his hand reassuringly on Aziraphale’s waist.

“Millicent did, of course. She keeps better track of your ongoings that you do,” Yahvi told him, her eyes glittering in clear amusement. “Now, shall we discuss it?”  
  
“This late?” Aziraphale asked her.  
  
“Sure,” Crowley responded at the same time. He turned to Aziraphale and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. “Go to sleep, angel. You’ll want to be rested up for the wedding.”

“I can stay up longer,” Aziraphale insisted.  
  
Crowley brushed a thumb over his cheek. “If it’s too frightening to go back to your own room so soon you can sleep in my bed.”  
  
Aziraphale didn’t know how to tell him that sleeping alone wasn’t what he was afraid of.

Douglas gently grabbed Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Here, I’ll walk you.”

Aziraphale didn’t realize he was an open book until Douglas stepped into Crowley’s bedroom after him and closed the door. “Look, I didn’t want to say something in front of everyone and embarrass you but are you alright?”  
  
“Yeah I’m…” he trailed off, trembling. “Oh dear, I suppose I’m not.”  
  
“Do you want to talk about it?” Douglas asked him, guiding him to the bed and sitting next to him.  
  
“Has Crowley had erm… relations with Empress Yahvi?”

“Oh, that?” Douglas chuckled dryly. “Yes, he has, but you don’t have to worry about anything like that.”

“Why wouldn’t I have to worry?” Aziraphale asked him quietly. “It’s common for alpha kings to take multiple omegas in order to increase their chances of an heir. Empress Yahvi is an omega, I could smell it on her, and she’s a powerful one at that. Surely she’s of more use-”  
  
“Well then it’s a good thing your usefulness isn’t the point here, isn’t it?” Douglas interrupted him, smiling gently. “Why would Anthony want another omega when you’re enough of a handful as it is?”

Aziraphale snorted at that and Douglas wrapped a reassuring arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. “Yahvi isn’t the sort of woman who takes pleasure in breaking down others. Nor does she take pleasure in other people’s partners.”  
  
“But what if Crowley realizes that he’s wasting his time with me?” Aziraphale asked him. “I’m a bumbling virgin and a liar…”  
  
“You’re also incredibly brave, kind, and loyal. A quick learner too,” Douglas winked. He turned serious after a moment. “Did you talk to Crowley about you being The White Knight?”  
  
“Not exactly,” Aziraphale told him sheepishly. “It just… seemed so suspicious? I’m close with both you and Millicent and my captors brought me to your home, I got out of my situation before Crowley was even there to rescue me and somehow someone knew exactly where Crowley was and had my armor… It wouldn’t have looked good for any of us.”

“That makes sense,” Douglas told him, frowning. “How did you feel when you found out he was The Black Knight?”  
  
“Happy,” Aziraphale told him, blushing. “Though I’m still rather cross with you for not telling me. I feel rather silly now.”

“I can’t go telling everyone each other’s secrets, now can I?” Douglas asked with a grin. He paused for a moment before leaning in and brushing a light kiss to his forehead. “Get some sleep, you have a big day ahead.”

Aziraphale’s flushed skin tingled where Douglas had placed the kiss as he got comfortable on his soon-to-be husband’s bed. “Douglas?”

“Yes?”  
  
“Do you really think that Crowley wouldn’t… you know?” he asked him quietly, too afraid to even say the words.  
  
“His loyalty is fierce enough to match even yours,” Douglas told him confidently. “You and you _alone_ are his future husband and queen and you have nothing to fear.”

Aziraphale smiled then, albeit a bit shaky. “Thank you for your kind words. I’m sorry-”  
  
“Don’t apologize for feeling how you feel,” Douglas interrupted him. “I don’t care how silly you may think it is, if you need someone I’m here.”

“Thank you for being such a kind friend then,” Aziraphale told him.  
  
“And thank you,” Douglas responded. “Goodnight, Aziraphale.”

Yahvi steepled her fingers under his chin, thoughtful. “The ramifications of your actions could be war. You do realize this?”  
  
“Yes, I’m well aware. Is this the part where you tell me I’ve gone mad?” Crowley asked her.

“No, this is the part where I tell you that you’ve been my loyal friend since the two of us were young and I’d never let you descend into madness on your lonesome. Heaven has the power and ferocity of Gaia’s military behind them, you have my word as both an Empress and a friend.” 

They both smiled. There was a beat of silence.  
  
“So, my dearest madman, how will we go about this plan?” Yahvi asked, reclining in her seat.

“My father will most likely be attending my wedding tomorrow,” Crowley told her. “He’s plotted against both me and Prince Aziraphale without success but he’s going to want to save face in front of Hell’s court. He may be their king but the citizens of Hell have always favored me more.”

“And?”  
  
“And… I think my mate may be the key to bringing him down,” Crowley told her confidently.

“I’m listening,” she said.

Aziraphale woke up to the bed dipping next to him and a kiss being pressed against his neck. “Darling?”  
  
“It’s me, angel, don’t worry,” Crowley whispered softly. “You can go back to sleep.”  
  
“How did the meeting go?” Aziraphale asked.

“Mostly boring political nonsense. That woman has a talent for running on little to no sleep, a talent I do not share with her,” Crowley groused.  
  
“Where is she now?”  
  
“Oh, she’s with Douglas,” Crowley mumbled, already half asleep.

“This late?” Aziraphale asked for the second time that night. Crowley sat up then and Aziraphale rolled to face him, frowning at the deadpan look his fiance was giving him. “What?”

“Why would she be with Douglas this late?” Crowley asked him. “Think about it carefully. There are only so many deeds that are done this late.”  
  
Aziraphale gasped, scandalized. “But- But weren’t the two of you lovers!?”

“Yahvi doesn’t have _lovers_ , she has _playthings_ ,” Crowley told him with a laugh. “Yes, I have slept with her a few times but it was over before the sun rose each time. Douglas, though. Douglas is one of her favorites.”

“Somehow, I didn’t see Douglas as the promiscuous type,” Aziraphale mused, laughing softly.

“He’s the most promiscuous of our friend group, I assure you. Don’t let his charming personality fool you,” Crowley told him with a grin. “Where did you get that she and I were lovers? Were you concerned?”  
  
“I was a little concerned,” Aziraphale admitted softly. “But I trust you.”

“You never have to worry about that sort of thing with me,” Crowley told him, sincere. “I’m happy right where I am.”

“She’s so beautiful-”  
  
“So are you,” Crowley told him firmly, rolling on top of him and licking a wet stripe up the omega’s marked neck before growling low in his ear. “Let me show you.”

Aziraphale woke up alone and frowned before he saw a note from Crowley on the other pillow, written in the chaotic handwriting he’d come to associate with The Black Knight.

_My angel,_

_I woke up early because we’re not actually supposed to see each other right before the wedding, though I suppose it wouldn’t have hurt to break one more rule, would it? I mean, we should behave. We won’t have to after today, after all. Though, it was hard to leave this bed with such a lovely angel still in it._

_Waking up next to you felt so… ineffable. I’ll never grow tired of how the rising sun turns your hair to vibrant gold, how I realized for the first time that your lashes aren’t brown, but a deep gold just like your hair, and then the further realization that there will always be something new I can learn about you no matter how much I grow to know you. I look forward to learning the rest of you for the rest of our lives, assuming you don’t grow tired of my moody behavior and nonsensical ramblings such as this note._

_\- A. Crowley_

  
  
Aziraphale smiled to himself as he read the note, a happy blush spreading across his cheeks. He’d said before that it was his curse as an omega prince to never have his wishes granted but here he was, marrying the man he loves-

 _Oh_...

Aziraphale blushed, realizing after an embarrassingly long time, that he was unabashedly, truly, deeply in love with The Prince of Hell.

_‘Listen, O' Foolish Prince! The Knight's Black and Conquering King, two souls in one, shall deliver unto you a little death. And with it, bring the first echoes of life. Two souls in one, two hearts in one.’_

“You are unnervingly informed,” Aziraphale mused aloud, though Agnes couldn’t possibly have heard him. “Now, what on earth does the last half mean?”

Crowley greeted his father in the courtyard. “Father, I hope your journey here was smooth.”

King Lucifer’s grin was sharp. “We had a few minor setbacks but obviously it didn’t stop me.” 

Beezlebub just rolled their eyes and looked away, clearly disinterested in the conversation. They had one hand on their omega’s waist protectively, drawing Crowley’s attention to the fact that Dagon was clearly expecting. “Beezlebub, Dagon. I hope the journey wasn’t too strenuous?”

“As if I would let my mate take a strenuous journey while with child,” Beezlebub told him, clearly irritated. “Unlike some alphas, I can keep my mate safe and under control.”

“Mine’s safe,” Crowley responded.

“All that nonsense about letting the former prince choose his own alpha just to take him in the end,” Lucifer commented in a patronizing tone.

“Oh, he _did_ actually choose me,” Crowley snarked back, grinning. “Loyal as anything too.”

Lucifer looked away in irritation, then froze as his eyes locked onto someone descending the castle’s front steps. “Empress Yahvi, it’s a rare honor to see you here.”

Yahvi eyed him before plastering on the smile she reserved for kings and politicians she didn’t actually like but had to play nice with. “A pleasure, as always, King Lucifer. As for my presence, I wouldn’t miss my dear Anthony’s wedding for the world.”

Lucifer looked at Crowley and Crowley’s grin was sharp as he made a swooping gesture. “Do come in, the wedding is starting soon.”

Aziraphale felt his hands shake as he stood at the doors of the throne room, where the ceremony was being held. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Savaric, his newly appointed personal guard, grabbed his hands. “Yes, you can. Marriage is scary but so is any adventure. That’s all it is, a lifelong adventure with the person you love.”

“You have such a lovely outlook on these things,” Aziraphale told him, smiling. His smile dropped. “How did you know I loved-”  
  
“I could see it all over your face. That’s how I look at Gilbert,” Savaric told him, his smile dropping too. “Love is scary but I’ve yet to see anything that you weren’t brave enough to face. This is no different.”

“Your highness?” A familiar voice spoke up. 

Aziraphale scowled and turned to Agnes Nutter, crossing his arms. “You could’ve just told me that-”  
  
“I have no idea what you’re about to say little dove and I don’t care,” Agnes cut him off firmly. “I don’t interpret my prophecies, I just receive them and voice them as they are told to me.”  
  
“Can this wait?” Aziraphale asked anxiously. 

“I’m afraid not. I had one come to me this morning,” Agnes told him gravely. “‘ _A hand at your back, yet armed with no knife. A sundering of trust, betrayal run rife. Two rival monarchs, their wings clipped to fall. And the loss of your right, at the end of it all._ ’"

Aziraphale blinked at her, confused. “My right to what!?”

“Shouldn’t we focus on the betrayal part?” Savaric asked nervously.

“Well, we already suspected we had a spy,” Aziraphale told him pragmatically.

“Oh, yeah,” Savaric mused, still anxious.  
  
The doors opened and the music swelled from within the throne room.  
  
“Good luck, dove. Please do stay safe,” Agnes told him, her tone far softer than usual.

Aziraphale smiled at her before taking a steadying breath and walking through the doors and toward his future.

The ceremony was brief but Aziraphale’s hands were shaking from both the nerves of his wedding day but also because he felt both Lucifer and Yahvi’s eyes on the two of them and Aziraphale couldn’t tell which was worse.  
  
At dinner, Crowley stood to make a toast. “To Hell, to Heaven, and to my husband, the man who I managed to fool into a lifelong commitment with me.” He winked at Aziraphale playfully as their wedding guests laughed.  
  
Lucifer even laughed, smirking across the table at Aziraphale, who was pointedly ignoring him. “I suppose it didn’t take much to convince a kingmaker to marry him, hmm?” he asked, his voice low enough for only Aziraphale to hear.

“I don’t know what you mean, King Lucifer,” Aziraphale responded innocently as Crowley sat back down. He didn’t quite understand why Crowley was behaving normally around his father as if the king hadn’t attempted to harm Aziraphale. However, Aziraphale trusted his husband and if he knew Crowley at all, he had a plan of sorts. He always did.

Aziraphale turned away from Lucifer and looked at Empress Yahvi, who was staring at Gilbert as he pointedly looked everywhere but her general direction. Savaric was expressively waving his hands as he told an enthusiastic story to Millicent and Douglas, who were both laughing. It seemed he was still not speaking to Gilbert. Strange.

It was a relief when dinner was over and the wedding party journeyed to the ballroom where Aziraphale and Crowley led them in the first dance of the night. It was a relief to have the excuse to be in Crowley’s arms again. “Darling?” Aziraphale inquired quietly, intending to not be overheard. He leaned up, his head resting on Crowley’s shoulder.

“Yes, angel?” Crowley asked him, just as quiet.

“Is there a reason your father is here and alive?” he whispered against his husband’s ear. His husband kissed him on the side of his head.  
  
“You ruthless thing,” Crowley chuckled against his hair. They were dancing much closer than what was socially acceptable but no one could hardly bother them on their wedding day over such silly things. “Yes, there is. I’ll explain later.” With that, he spun Aziraphale out and let go of his hand.  
  
Aziraphale was confused until he bumped into Douglas, who immediately pulled him into a dance, the appropriate sort this time. “I requested a dance with the prettier groom,” Douglas told him, winking.  
  
Aziraphale glanced over to where Crowley was arguing with Millicent over who gets to lead their dance. “I don’t believe he thought this dance partner swap through,” he told Douglas with a laugh.  
  
“They’ll figure it out,” Douglas told him, laughing as well. “I taught Milly to dance when she was so little she had to stand on my feet,” he mused almost to himself.

“Did you let her lead?” Aziraphale inquired, his voice dripping mirth.  
  
“Oh shut up,” Douglas groused, still playful. 

Savaric caught Aziraphale’s attention then. He was standing in the corner of the ballroom looking forlorn. Gilbert and Empress Yahvi were both nowhere to be seen.  
  
He frowned, opening his mouth to tell Douglas that he was going to see if Savaric loved to dance but saw Kione approach and bow to Savaric, holding out his hand to request a dance. He smiled when Savaric took it, knowing how much his friend adored dancing.

The scene caught Douglas’s attention as well and he frowned. “Both Gilbert and Yahvi are nowhere to be seen so this isn’t good,” he told Aziraphale.

“What do you mean?” he asked, afraid for his friend’s marriage.

“Complicated, messy business,” Douglas told him vaguely. “It isn’t my place to divulge but I do hope Gilbert can get things sorted before he messes up too badly and loses Savaric forever. That boy is the best thing that’s ever happened to him and it would do well for him to remember.”

“You seem rather invested in this,” Aziraphale commented.  
  
“Gilbert, Kione, and I were always really close and ever since the two of them split, it’s been hard. I love them both and I always wanted the two of them to be happy but sometimes I fear that Kione will never be happy without Gilbert and Gilbert will never be happy until he owns up to his past and who he truly is. Savaric is caught somewhere in the middle of a conflict he doesn’t understand and if Gilbert doesn’t open up, he may lose Savaric because of it.”

Aziraphale didn’t quite know how to respond to that so he veered the conversation onto safer territory, like Thurstan and Clara, of all people, dancing together. That drew a confused laugh out of Douglas and their conversation stayed on lighter subjects from then on.

Savaric actually found himself laughing at the remarks Kione was making at the wedding guests, especially when King Lucifer noticed him and paled considerably. They danced out onto the balcony and Kione let him go, breathless from the dancing. “I’ll be back, we both deserve wine after all of that.”

“I would love wine,” Savaric admitted sheepishly. Kione smiled at him before turning to leave.  
  
Alright, so maybe Kione wasn’t so bad. He’d actually danced with Savaric after all and was surprisingly respectful and friendly. He was quite funny as well, though his sense of humor was a bit crude, possibly from the roguish lifestyle. Savaric could actually see Kione becoming a friend of his, provided he doesn’t leave for a while. Savaric always did adore making new friends.

Savaric stepped further out onto the balcony and leaned on the railing, breathing in the night air. He froze, something in the gardens below catching his attention.  
  
“Why do you keep running away from me!?” Yahvi demanded, practically cornering Gilbert.  
  
“You know why,” Gilbert responded quietly.

“I love you! I wouldn’t be attempting to speak with you if I didn’t! Why won’t you even look at me!?” Yahvi pressed further, stepping closer to Gilbert and cupping his cheek.  
  
Savaric’s blood ran cold as Gilbert touched her hand and leaned into it. “I love you too… I just… I just can’t look at you when I…”

He didn’t listen to anything else as he backed away from what he was hearing, his heart pounding.  
  
“Savaric! They brought out the good wine so-” Kione was cut off when Savaric bolted past him. “Savaric?”

Aziraphale noticed Savaric practically running from the ball and stepped away from Thurstan, his current dance partner. “I’m sorry, I just saw-”  
  
“Yeah, go check on him!” Thurstan insisted. “He seemed upset and I think he’d appreciate your company.”

With a smile of gratitude, Aziraphale rushed after his friend. It took a while but he found Savaric hiding in an alcove, great heaving sobs wracking his slim frame. “Savaric?”

“He-” Savaric hiccuped another sob, unable to continue what he was about to say. Aziraphale made a soothing noise and sat next to him, rubbing his back and pulling him into a hug.  
  
“You don’t have to tell me if it’ll upset you further,” Aziraphale soothed.  
  
“You should get back to your ball,” Savaric told him, sniffling. “I don’t want to ruin your night.”

“I’m already married and I was getting tired anyway,” Aziraphale assured him. “You didn’t ruin anything. In fact, why don’t you and I go relax in mine and Crowley’s room? I can get someone to whip the two of us some crepes.” 

Crowley bowed to Clara as their dance concluded. When he stood up, he noticed Thurstan getting wine and Aziraphale was nowhere to be seen. He approached them. “Where is my husband? Did you step on his toes?”

“You’re so funny,” Thurstan drawled, rolling their eyes. “No, Savaric seemed upset and Aziraphale went to find him.”  
  
“So you let Aziraphale leave unattended while there are people that want him dead in this castle?” Crowley asked them, deadpan.  
  
“Maybe try not to invite people that want him dead to your wedding,” Thurstan responded, equally deadpan.

Realizing that arguing with Thurstan was a moot point, Crowley went out in search of his mate. He finally found him in their now shared bedroom, Savaric asleep next to him. Savaric’s eyes were puffy and red, clearly having been crying. Aziraphale, on the other hand, looked murderous.

“Gilbert is dead to me.”

Crowley blinked at him, confused. “Um… right, but why is Savaric in our bed?”

“Darling, I don’t think he needs to be alone right now,” Aziraphale told him sheepishly. “Maybe we can wait until tomorrow night?”

Crowley realized then, what Aziraphale was telling him. Gilbert was a bit dead to him too right now.

Gilbert was in bed, reading, when Crowley walked in. He looked up in surprise right as Crowley snatched his book away and smacked him in the head with it, hard. “Move.”

“What do you mean!?” Gilbert groused, clutching his sore head.  
  
“Your husband and my husband are both in my bed, sprawling across the whole thing. So, after being quite _literally_ kicked out of the bed by our husbands, I decided that you were going to share in my misery,” Crowley complained, crawling under the covers.  
  
“Oh, that’s where he is?” Gilbert asked him, clearly relaxing. “Why is he there?”  
  
“Because you won’t tell him any sort of bloody truth so he thinks you’re shagging Yahvi,” Crowley told him bluntly.

Gilbert was visibly disturbed. “Oh.”

“In the morning you are _dead_ ,” Crowley told him gravely, already drifting off into sleep.

Douglas found his legs moving through the streets without thinking. The ball had quickly become boring as his friends disappeared and the lack of friends around gave him time to face a glaring problem he had.  
  
He was in love with Aziraphale, Aziraphale was in love with Crowley, and the two of them had just gotten married.

Douglas was happy for them, sure, but there was a bone-deep ache that he couldn’t shrug off. He couldn’t even find solace from what was about to happen the night before in Yahvi’s arms. 

He entered the tavern he had visited the night of Aziraphale’s kidnapping and sighed as he sat down. He felt more than saw the barkeep next to him. “I’ll have a pint of the strongest alcohol you have- actually, make it a bottle... or three.”

The barkeep laughed and Douglas looked up, pleasantly surprised to see the same blond omega from last time. “You’re a bit too handsome to look that miserable.”

“Unfortunately, being handsome isn’t a cure for misery,” Douglas told him, frowning.  
  
“No, but it makes the shagging more pleasant in most cases,” the omega said bluntly, winking. “I’m Aubrey. What’s your poison, handsome moody stranger?”

“My name is-”  
  
“Sir Douglas, I know,” Aubrey cut him off. “I watched you in the tournament. “I had a good view if you know what I mean,” the omega winked and Douglas felt his eyebrows raise. He was confident and Douglas found that _quite_ attractive.

“A good view of the regent winning?” Douglas asked playfully.  
  
“I was hoping you’d lose if only to keep you on the market a little longer,” Aubrey flirted.  
  
“This may be forward but-” Douglas began.

“As long as you’re gone before morning I accept,” Aubrey cut him off once again, smirking. “I close the tavern in about an hour.”

“I can wait,” Douglas told him quickly, still reeling from how fast he just wanted to sleep with someone. He watched as Aubrey’s hips swayed as he went from table to table, suddenly feeling much less of a need for alcohol.

Aziraphale found flowers and a note by the door of his bedroom the next morning, both clearly from Gilbert for Savaric.  
  
Savaric took one look at them before his face crumbled into misery. “Why is he doing this?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know enough about relationships to tell you,” Aziraphale told him honestly.

“I don’t either,” Savaric confessed quietly. “Gilbert was my first everything. I love him so much that staying away from him makes it difficult to breathe. I thought he loved me too.”

“You’ll get through this, with or without him,” Aziraphale told him confidently. “You’re so kind and beautiful. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“You don’t get it,” Savaric told him miserably. “I’m- I’m different now than how I was when he first fell in love with me. Maybe I’m not what he wants anymore.”

“Even still, anyone would be lucky to have you,” Aziraphale told him confidently. “Now, we’re going to go have a nice day, maybe invite a few of our friends, and get your mind off things, alright? If you’re feeling better, you can use my old room until you’re comfortable making an official decision.”

Crowley walked into the room then, pausing to glare at the flowers. “Did Gilbert come to talk or did he just leave flowers?”  
  
“He just left flowers and a note that he wants to talk when I'm ready,” Savaric told him, his chin wobbling.  
  
“Bloody idiot,” Crowley grumbled, stepping to his wardrobe and pulling out fresh clothing. “Aziraphale, there’s something I need to speak with you about.”  
  
“Yes?” Aziraphale prompted.

“Remember when I told you to be polite and quiet around my father?” Crowley asked.  
  
“Yes?” Aziraphale repeated, confused now.  
  
“Well, I want you to disregard that advice and just be yourself around him,” Crowley told him brightly, pulling him in for a kiss. “I have to go but I’ll see you tonight!” 

“What a bizarre yet delightful request,” Savaric commented, momentarily distracted.

Aziraphale couldn’t help but agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SORRY!


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Note** These OC backstories all tie into Aziraphale and Crowley's plot, I promise haha
> 
> There is both angst and smut in this chapter lol

Douglas stirred awake to the sounds from the street below. He sat up quickly, embarrassed to realize that both he and Aubrey had fallen asleep after the most intense and mind-blowing shag of Douglas’s life. 

Aubrey mumbled something angrily in his sleep, his face scrunching. Douglas found himself smiling in amusement. Despite Aubrey’s confidence and attitude when he’s awake, he’s rather adorable while asleep.

Someone knocked on the bedroom door. “Mommy? Are you still sleeping?”

Aubrey’s eyes shot open in alarm and he sprang out of bed, quickly getting dressed. “I just woke up and I’m getting dressed, petal. I’ll be down in a bit!”    
  
Douglas just sat in shock until Aubrey turned to him, clearly angry. “Why are you still here!?” he hissed.

“Well-”   
  
“It doesn’t matter,” Aubrey said quickly, throwing Douglas’s torn clothing at him. “Just leave out the window so my daughter doesn’t see you.”   
  
Douglas glanced at the window nervously. “We’re two stories up…”

“Figure it out,” Aubrey told him, finally finished getting dressed. He strode out of the room without a backward glance, a slight limp to his gait.

Douglas sighed as he eyed his torn shirt. This will be the most embarrassing walk home of his life, it would seem.

After donning his trousers, forgoing the shirt, and unable to find his shoes, Douglas nervously opened the window and looked down.    
  
He braced himself and swung his leg over the edge and began his descent, catching the eye of a few bemused villagers. He grabbed onto a window shutter and realized too late that it was barely hanging on. He didn’t have time to scream before he fell into a flower bush below.    
  
Douglas huffed, pulling a leaf from his hair and apologetically leaning the window shutter against the wall of the tavern before making his way home, already making plans to return for his shoes, and to help repair the shutter he broke.

“I say, fuck him!” Millicent snapped, digging into her breakfast. “Who is he sleeping with behind your back anyway? I’ll fight her for you,” she offered.

“I don’t think I should say,” Savaric responded, nervous.

Clara wrung her hands together. “Maybe there’s another explanation! Did they kiss or just say they love each other?”   
  
Thurstan rolled their eyes. “Clara, what reason would Gilbert have to be getting chummy with a lovely woman while his husband is alone in a ballroom?”   
  
“Gilbert just seems so sweet is all,” Clara told them, frowning.

“Everyone seems sweet until they’re willing to fuck anything that moves,” Thurstan groused.

“Thurstan, you’re one to talk!” Millicent snapped.

“I wasn’t talking about _you_!” Thurstan snapped in response.

Clara just looked between them in confusion before getting distracted by her food. “These pancakes are scrummy, wouldn’t you all agree?”

Aziraphale rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming along. He wasn’t prepared to deal with all of this at once first thing in the morning, especially after being unable to enjoy his wedding night. 

Aubrey walked down the stairs into the tavern in a rush, apologizing to the barmaid for oversleeping. The two of them locked eyes and Aziraphale smiled politely and looked away, embarrassed to have been caught staring. Something outside the window caught his attention and his eyes nearly bulged out in alarm. Douglas was walking through the middle of town without a shirt or shoes, seemingly uncaring of the villagers staring at him. His back was marked up with scratches and he had dark bruises all over his chest and neck.

He shot a panicked glance at Millicent to see if she noticed, but she was still busy threatening Gilbert’s other woman while glaring at Thurstan.    


Aubrey sat with them, propping his chin on his hands. “Wow, sounds like a complete prick.”

Millicent paused, confused by his presence, while Savaric blushed at the memory of Aubrey’s blatant flirtation. Anathema rolled her eyes, though her voice was fond. “Hello, Aubrey.”

“Millicent, Thurstan, Clara, this is Aubrey. Aubrey, this is Millicent, Thurstan, and Clara” Aziraphale introduced quickly.

“Nice to meet you! You’re so pretty!” Clara enthused.   
  
Thurstan gave Aubrey a polite smile but nothing further.   
  
“A pleasure to meet you,” Millicent said, smiling politely.

Aubrey just grinned at the three of them before returning to the conversation at hand. “So, is the other woman pretty?” Aubrey asked Savaric, propping his chin on his hands. 

“Yeah, she’s gorgeous,” Savaric responded. “I don’t hate her or anything, I’m upset with Gilbert.”

“You’re a stronger person than I,” Aubrey responded. “Though, I avoid feelings so I don’t find myself in those situations.”

It suddenly dawned on Aziraphale why Douglas was outside the tavern in such a state and he nearly choked on his food in alarm. 

Aubrey noticed and raised an eyebrow in confusion before sitting up straighter. “May I ask for a pause on the cursing please?” he asked Millicent, who had gone on another round of threats against Gilbert’s manhood.

Millicent tilted her head, clearly confused until a little girl around six years old jumped into Aubrey’s lap. “Did you not feel good this morning, mommy?”

“I was just sleepy is all,” Aubrey told her, his voice much softer and gentler than his usual tone. “Carina, darling, where are your manners? This is our prince you’re sitting next to.”

Carina looked at Aziraphale with wide, curious eyes. She looked so similar to her mother, it was uncanny. “You’re a real prince!?”

“Yes, I am,” Aziraphale told her, smiling.

The little girl scrambled off her mother’s lap and imitated a curtsey. It was a bit clumsy and childlike but ridiculously adorable. Aziraphale found himself standing and imitating the gesture, much to her delight. 

Aubrey stood from the table and picked Carina up, placing a kiss on her nose. “What do you want for breakfast today?” 

“Crepes!” Carina exclaimed.   
  
“Oh, I like her,” Savaric commented with a laugh. Aubrey smiled at him before walking away with his daughter, undoubtedly to get her some breakfast.

“She’s a character,” Millicent agreed with a laugh.

Aziraphale grabbed Savaric’s hand reassuringly as they approached the front doors of the castle. “I’m here if you need anything,” he assured his friend.

The castle doors opened and Empress Yahvi stepped out, her gaze sweeping over Aziraphale and locking in on Savaric. “Oh, Sir Savaric, I’ve been looking for you.”   
  
“You have?” Savaric asked nervously, his knuckles turning white as he gripped Aziraphale’s hand.

“Yes, now let me look at you,” she said, stepping forward and cupping his cheeks gently. “Oh, you’re very beautiful.”

“Erm… thank you?” Savaric asked, clearly confused as to what is going on. He didn’t have any experience in these situations but he didn’t think it was normal to compliment the person who’s husband you’re is sleeping with. “I’m sorry, I’m confused. You don’t have to do all of this, I already know about you and Gilbert.”   
  
She looked confused then. “Who?”   
  
“Gilbert, I saw the two of you together,” Savaric insisted.   
  
“I’ve never met a Gilbert,” the empress told him, frowning.

There was a tense moment of silence where Savaric realized yet another lie he’d been told. He let go of Aziraphale’s hand and began walking away, his expression clouded.

“Where is he going?” Empress Yahvi asked.

“Stop playing innocent,” Aziraphale scoffed, whirling on her. “You’ve been rude and uptight since you got here, ruined my best friend’s marriage, and now you have the audacity to ask where he’s going as if you didn’t intend for him to-”   
  
“Prince Aziraphale, you really _do_ have to stop talking,” Yahvi cut him off, grabbing his hand firmly and pulling him along. “Let us go for a walk before you cause a scene.”

Gilbert was in a meeting with Crowley when Savaric walked in, his eyes blazing. “We need to talk.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Gilbert agreed, clearly attempting to soothe Savaric’s anger.   
  
“Well, I’ll let the two of you talk because  _ clearly _ , you need to. I’ll just go find my husband,” Crowley told them both, exasperated. 

After the door closed, Gilbert reached out to Savaric and he stepped away quickly. “Don’t touch me. What is your name?” 

“What kind of question is that?” Gilbert asked him, clearly upset. “What’s been going on with you? You didn’t speak to me for days and then last night you didn’t come to bed and I had to find out from Crowley that you are apparently under the impression I’m sleeping around behind your back.”

“What’s going on with  _ me _ !? First, I find out that you had a fiance who you completely neglected to mention to me and I was hurt because we’re supposed to tell each other everything. But I could’ve got past that one lie. But then I see you in the garden telling some woman you love her after you left me completely by myself at a ball! Now, I’m finding out that I don’t even know your actual name!?” Savaric was yelling by the end of it. 

Gilbert clenched his jaw. “Did Kione-”   


“Kione isn’t the problem here! You are!” Savaric interrupted him. “Why would you lie to me!?”   
  
“Some things are just hard to talk about-” Gilbert began.   


“Hard to talk about!? I’m your _husband_!” Savaric whispered, his fight dying down as tears filled his eyes. “Or am I? I made my vows to the name of a man that doesn’t exist.”

“Savaric, sweetheart-” Gilbert tried, reaching out again.   
  
“Don’t touch me and don’t call me sweetheart,” Savaric told him firmly, trembling and crossing his arms as if to shield himself. “Why me? Because I was young and naive and in love for the first time so I wouldn’t question anything you told me?”   
  
“No,” Gilbert told him, his demeanor softening. “No, my feelings for you are real. I swear to you, I’ve never been unfaithful.” He braced himself then. “Yahvi is my older sister.”

“Right, so you’re a prince and you wouldn’t tell me your name because-” Savaric broke off, news of a royal scandal from years ago surfacing in his mind. “Because you killed your brother,” he gasped out, covering his mouth.

“I can explain it if you’ll let me,” Gilbert told him softly.

“I don’t think I want an explanation,” Savaric told him, steeling himself. “I don’t know who you are but you’re not the man I thought I married.”   
  
“Are you leaving me?” Gilbert asked in disbelief.   
  
“Yeah, I suppose I am,” Savaric told him, his voice hard as he walked to the door. “I suggest the next try you find a boy who’s more foolish than me. Maybe he’ll last out longer.”

“Savaric-”   
  
“Have a nice life, whatever your name is,” Savaric said over his shoulder before slamming the door behind him.

“Let me go,” Aziraphale snapped, finally fed up.    
  
“Fine,” Yahvi snapped back, releasing his arm. “Smile, there are guards around and we don’t want to show any acts of strife right now.” 

“Right,” Aziraphale mumbled, smiling as they began walking through the gardens, feigning a casual stroll. 

Yahvi smiled back, equally as fake. “I haven’t ruined any marriages. The only men I’ve sought out since coming here has been Douglas, who is a bachelor, and my little brother, who Sir Savaric is married to-”   


“Gilbert is your brother!?” Aziraphale asked her, alarmed.

“Keep smiling,” Yahvi reminded him. “So I see there was a misunderstanding. I wasn’t aware he was going by a false name.”

“So you’re not sleeping with him?” Aziraphale inquired.

Yahvi pulled a face. “Obviously not!”

“That’s a relief,” Aziraphale sighed. 

“Oh… did this cause a problem for little Savaric?” Yahvi asked, visibly concerned. “A shame, I wanted to bond with him.”

“All this aside, nothing excuses you for being so rude,” Aziraphale griped.

“Actually, I’m an empress so I can do what I want,” Yahvi told him casually. “Though in your case, I can happily give you an explanation as to why.”   
  
“Alright then,” Aziraphale prompted.   
  
“I don’t like you,” Yahvi said bluntly.

“You don’t know me,” Aziraphale pointed out. “Not that I like you either,” he added.

“True, but I do know your type,” she told him. “You’re an omega in a repressed society where you have no power. Then, a powerful alpha comes along and respects you and your right to make your own decisions. He’s not a king but you crave the power of a queen, the power you’ll have over him if he succeeds the throne. So, you make sure he does. You’re willing to assassinate kings and start wars to get the power you desire.”   
  
Aziraphale gaped at her.

“You can talk yourself into believing you’re something special but at the end of the day you’re just a kingmaker, a glamorous title for a power-hungry whore,” Yahvi went on to say.

“Ah, I suppose I know your type as well,” Aziraphale responded casually.   
  
“Oh, and what is that?” Yahvi inquired, smiling politely as a guard rotation walked by.

“A misinformed, pompous bitch,” Aziraphale told her, his smile still plastered on. “You may be the Empress of Gaia, but I’m the queen here in Heaven, not you. So you cannot stroll up into my home and have the gall to mock me or my relationship with my husband, nor is it your place to imply I whore myself out for power.”

Yahvi stopped walking. “I’ve never had anyone speak to me that way before,” she told him, her smile dropping and her eyes narrowing.   
  
“It would probably do you some good if it happened more often,” Aziraphale snarked back, dropping the pretense as well.

To his surprise, Yahvi smiled, genuine this time. “I changed my mind, I like you.”   
  
“What!?” Aziraphale asked, stepping away from her in shock. “You can’t just change your mind that quickly-” he broke off, confused when she began waving. “Why are you- Ah!”   
  
Crowley grunted as he hefted Aziraphale over his shoulder. “I apologize, Yahvi, but I need to borrow my husband for a few hours.”

Aziraphale blushed, both at the implication and embarrassment over being picked up. “Crowley! I’m too heavy!” His husband just laughed and began carrying him away. Aziraphale shot a grumpy look at Yahvi. “This isn’t over,” he mouthed at her.

Yahvi stopped waving and made a rude gesture, obviously amused.

Aziraphale’s back had barely hit the bed before Crowley’s mouth was on his neck, nuzzling against his scent glands. “I tried to hold out until tonight but I kept thinking of you,” Crowley murmured in his ear.

“I, for one, was having the most horrid discussion with Yahvi,” Aziraphale huffed. “She said she doesn’t like me!”   
  
Crowley pulled back, quirking a brow. “You really want to discuss her? Right  _ now _ ?”   
  
“Aren’t you angry she was mean to me?” Aziraphale inquired, also quirking a brow.

“If it’s any consolation, Yahvi is mean to  _ everyone _ at first, that’s her way of testing you out, see what makes you tick,” Crowley told him, clearly amused. “Did you give her a scolding?”   
  
“I cursed at her… and called her a bitch?” Aziraphale admitted, sheepish. “Oh dear, she’s not going to declare war on us or anything is she?”

“You don’t have to worry about her being that petty. In fact, I’m sure she  _ loved _ that you stood up to her. Few have the spine to do it, after all,” Crowley laughed. “Don’t worry about her right now. Let’s discuss how if one more of our friends interrupts us-”   
  
“I know, they’re dead to you,” Aziraphale chuckled, brushing a strand of Crowley’s hair out of his face before tucking it behind his ear. “We’re alone now and the guards won’t let anyone pass.”

Crowley brushed a thumb over Aziraphale’s cheek, reverent. “May I make love to you, my husband?”

“You may,” Aziraphale told him, his lip quirking in the corner. “I’m sorry we’re a day late.”   
  
“I’d wait forever if you wanted,” Crowley promised, gently kissing his nose. He stood and pulled Aziraphale to his feet as well before kissing him passionately as his fingers deftly began unlacing the fastenings of Aziraphale’s gown.

“Fortunately, you don’t have to,” Aziraphale gasped out, breathless as they broke apart for Aziraphale to step out of his gown.

“You wear so many layers,” Crowley groused playfully as he pulled at Aziraphale’s corset. “Though… this would look lovely on you.”

“With what?” Aziraphale asked.

“By itself,” Crowley told him, his voice low and sultry. “Not now though. This time I want to see all of you.”

Aziraphale shivered in anticipation as the corset dropped to the floor and Crowley began tugging Aziraphale’s chemise over his head. 

Crowley ran reverent hands down Aziraphale’s body, squeezing at the sides of his soft tummy before roaming down to grip his ass. “You’re so beautiful.”

“I don’t want to be the only one naked,” Aziraphale told him with a blush. 

Crowley removed his clothes quickly then before pulling Azirpahale into a passionate kiss, his hands roaming and touching all he could reach. Aziraphale shyly ran a hand down Crowley’s chest, feeling the muscles in his abdomen twitch at the touch before he gripped onto Crowley’s cock and began gently tugging.

The alpha made a noise and buried his head in Aziraphale’s neck. “Fuck- Where did you learn that?”

“A book, if I’m being honest,” Aziraphale responded, blushing. “Do you like it?”   


“Yes, I do,” Crowley praised him, bucking against his hand with a low groan. “But alas, I intend to make this last for the remainder of the evening.”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale gasped. “It’s not even teatime yet!” 

“Great, so we have more time than I thought,” Crowley growled, picking Aziraphale up by his thighs before slamming him to the bed.

Aziraphale gasped in a mix of shock and arousal as Crowley began peppering kisses down his chest before making his way toward Aziraphale’s sex and plunging his tongue in without preamble. Aziraphale bit back a scream as his back arched off the bed and he gripped Crowley’s hair. “Crowley! Crowley!”

“I’ve got you, angel, just relax,” Crowley murmured pressing a kiss to Aziraphale’s mound before going to going back to fucking Aziraphale with his tongue. Aziraphale bit his lip, his toes curling against black sheets as he submitted to his husband's hands and mouth.

Aziraphale already knew Crowley would want to wring orgasm after orgasm out of him until Aziraphale was overstimulated and drunk with pleasure. He’d want to carry on for hours on end, completely patient while Aziraphale felt he was falling apart.

This was no different.

After what felt like at least an hour, Aziraphale felt a finger slip in next to Crowley’s tongue. He moaned, low in his throat as he felt another slide in alongside the first and scissor him open, all while Crowley’s sinful tongue continued to explore inside him.

Aziraphale tugged at Crowley’s hair, whimpering. “Darling, please, I don’t want to wait anymore.”

Crowley sat up then and bracketed himself between Aziraphale’s plump thighs. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” Aziraphale laughed, despite their situation. “You silly alpha, all I want is you.”

“Well, that works out great then,” Crowley told him, lining up with Aziraphale’s entrance. “Because all I want is you.” He then pushed in, slow and gentle.    
  
Aziraphale felt the stretch and gasped, clinging to Crowley as his husband bottomed out inside of him. “How do you feel, angel?” Crowley asked, his voice rough.

“You feel- ah!- bigger inside than I expected,” Aziraphale managed, his legs trembling. “But you feel lovely, regardless. I would really enjoy it if you moved, I think.”

“I feel lovely?” Crowley teased, kissing Aziraphale’s forehead as he slowly began moving his hips in deep sensuous circles. “That’s a first.”

“Oh hush- ah!” Aziraphale gasped as Crowley moved impossibly deep. “Crowley!”

“Does it feel good?” Crowley asked him, already knowing the answer.   
  
Aziraphale nodded, bucking his hips against his husband's torturous pace. “You don’t have to be so gentle, my dear, I won’t break.”

Crowley made a low noise in his throat before gripping Aziraphale’s hips hard enough to leave bruises. “Are you sure?”   
  
“Yes, yes I’m sure,” Aziraphale told him shakily, cupping his cheek and pulling his husband in for a tender kiss. “I told you before how I wanted you to fuck me and you promised you would.”

“Yeah, I suppose I did,” Crowley grinned, sitting up and shifting Aziraphale’s knees higher on his hips. “It’s the least I could do in response to that filthy mouth of yours.”

He picked up the pace then, slamming into Aziraphale hard enough to cause the headboard to hit the wall. Aziraphale covered his mouth to stifle the embarrassingly loud noise he made but Crowley quickly moved his hand and pinned it to the bed above Aziraphale’s head. “I want to hear you.”

“Won’t-ah- someone hear us?” Aziraphale asked between gasps. 

“And if they did?” Crowley inquired, hiking Aziraphale’s knees over his elbows and pressing him to the bed, the new angle pushing Aziraphale into incoherent babbling. “Do you not want them to hear you enjoying yourself?”   
  
“Crowley!” Aziraphale half moaned, half laughed as Crowley let up some of the pressure. 

“Good boy, now say it a little louder,” Crowley demanded softly before his pace turned brutal. 

Aziraphale lost count of how many times he orgasmed, how much time had passed. The only thing real to him was the feel of Crowley’s sweat slick body sliding against his, gentle but firm hands holding him just how he liked, and the feel of Crowley inside him. Eventually, he felt something against his entrance and he bucked against it, already suspecting what it was. 

“Angel-fuck! Angel, don’t do that,” Crowley hissed in his ear. “It’s taking so much control to-”

“Knot me!” Aziraphale pleaded, pressing his forehead against his husband’s. “Please, alpha- Ah!” he broke off with a pleasured scream as Crowley breached him with his knot.

Crowley came immediately, groaning in Aziraphale’s ear as he emptied inside him. 

There was a moment where they lay there, shivering and holding each other. “Anthony, darling?”   
  
“You’re still coherent?” Crowley mumbled with a chuckle.

“Please, keep going,” Aziraphale asked him. “I’m so close-”   
  
Crowley mumbled something against Aziraphale’s neck that sounded suspiciously like he was thanking a higher power before he gripped onto Aziraphale’s hips and rolled so that Aziraphale was on his lap.    
  
Aziraphale whimpered, oversensitive, as he rode on Crowley’s knot, burying his neck into his alpha’s scent glands.

The alpha wasn’t faring any better. He was gripping onto Aziraphale’s ass and hissing praise into his ear, his voice shaking from his own oversensitivity.

Aziraphale felt tears spill over his cheeks and Crowley pulled him away, stilling the movements of their lovemaking. “Aziraphale, are you alright?”   
  
“I just…” Aziraphale trailed off, unable to explain how he felt. “I just feel so much right now.”   
  
“So much?” Crowley asked him with something like hope in his voice, cupping his cheek.

“Sparks of something,” Aziraphale managed to explain further, blushing as he buried his face in his husband’s neck once more. “It’s so beautiful, please don’t stop.”

Crowley kissed the top of his head tenderly before wrapping gentle arms around Aziraphale’s waist, resuming the rocking of their hips. “Don’t worry angel, I won’t.”

Aziraphale woke up to Crowley brushing his hair from his face. “How do you feel?”   
  
“Happy,” Aziraphale told him, smiling. “Was I good for you?”   
  
“You were  _ perfect _ for me. You always are,” Crowley told him, his voice sincere. “How about a bath before dinner? Can you walk properly?”   
  
“You didn’t hurt me if that’s what you’re asking,” Aziraphale assured his husband, sitting up and yawning. “Did you sleep at all?”   
  
“No, I have too much on my mind,” Crowley told him softly. “I suppose it’s time I explain.”

Savaric wiped at his red puffy eyes before opening the door to Aziraphale’s old bedroom. “What do you want!?”   
  
“I’m not going to ask for another chance because I know that I’ve wronged you,” Gilbert told him quickly, clearly miserable.    
  
“Clearly you’re not a complete idiot, thank you for bringing it to my attention,” Savaric drawled, moving to close the door.   
  
“My name is Prince Gabhasti Arya, fourth born of Former Empress Amaira!” Gilbert cut in quickly, causing Savaric to pause. “I was exiled nearly a decade ago because I took the blame for murdering my brother to protect the man I loved. To atone for my mistakes, I gave myself a different name and joined Prince Crowley in order to help him right the wrongs his father has committed against Gaia, Heaven, and Hell itself.”

There was a deafening silence after his confession. Savaric just stared at a far wall, unable to look directly at Gilbert.

“Five years ago, while traveling with Crowley, I met this beautiful man and he turned out to be the most kind-hearted, faithful, and honest person I’ve ever met. I felt dirty just looking at him. I didn’t deserve him and I knew it. Then, I was weak. I thought I could learn to be the sort of man he deserved and I let go of my past completely. Now, I realize that I was selfish and I shouldn’t have ever kissed you-”   
  
Savaric visibly flinched. “Gil- Prince Gabhasti, I think you should leave.”

“I understand,” Gabhasti responded, his voice choked. The door was already closed.


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's mostly fluff to counteract all the angst I've been piling on lol I'll save all the "fun" for next chapter ;)
> 
> CW: brief mentions of hopelessness/a desire to not live (I know that contradicts what I said about fluff but I PROMISE it's really brief)

“Darling, you know I adore you but this seems like a stretch at best,” Aziraphale sighed, leaning against his husband in the tub.   
  
“How is it a stretch? There’s nothing that pisses him off more than you,” Crowley laughed.

“But can I actually make him angry enough to lose his temper in front of both Heaven and Hell’s court while Empress Yahvi and her delegation are also in the room?” Aziraphale mused. “Though, the sight of him realizing his mistake would be quite funny.”

“It doesn’t have to be anything extreme,” Crowley reminded him. “This is a long term plan. We’re, you know… fomenting.” 

“Is that a sort of porridge?” Aziraphale inquired, scrunching his nose.

“Ngk-No. We’re fomenting discord, mutiny, that sort of thing,” Crowley replied. “The more Hell’s court doubts him, the weaker he’ll be.”

“Alright, I trust your judgment,” Aziraphale told him, leaning up to nuzzle underneath his husband’s jaw. “My cunning, wicked, incredible-”

“Hey now,” Crowley interrupted, laughing. Aziraphale smirked against his husband’s skin as he noticed the blush travelling down his chest.

“Why interrupt me?” Aziraphale inquired, his voice teasing.

“I don’t like compliments,” Crowley told him, laughing dryly. “I’m not the kind of person that deserves them.”   
  
“I disagree,” Aziraphale murmured against his husband’s neck before placing a kiss there, deciding to drop it for now.

Crowley pressed a kiss to the top of Aziraphale’s head. “I have a meeting with Gilbert to get to before dinner. I’m sorry for cutting this short.”

“Did Savaric speak with him?” Aziraphale inquired as Crowley stepped out of the tub.   
  
“Yeah, he did. I don’t know how the discussion went but I didn’t look like it was about to be pleasant,” Crowley told him with a frown. “The secrets Gilbert has kept from Savaric aren’t mine to tell but considering the circumstances-”

“He’s Yahvi’s brother, Prince Gabhasti?” Aziraphale asked. “I read a book recently about how one of the royal siblings murdered the other and there were only two male alpha siblings and one is dead so I assembled the puzzle, so to speak, when Yahvi told me he’s her brother.”

“Clever,” Crowley commented, looking proud. “Yes, his name is actually Gabhasti and he’s withheld a lot of information from Savaric for years with good intent but even still, there are some things you don’t hide from your spouse.”

Crowley frowned suddenly before running a trembling hand through his hair. “There’s something I should probably confess to you while we’re on that note.”

“Yes?” Aziraphale prompted, worried now.

“Well, erm- You know how I’m The Black Knight? Well… I’ve been in love with The White Knight for nearly six years now.”

Aziraphale felt his face heat up as Crowley rushed on.

“It doesn’t take away from my lo- feelings for you and I promise it won’t affect our marriage. I just want to be transparent with you because as we investigate why The White Knight attacked me, I will try to spare them in any way I can when the time for punishment comes.”

“Let me handle it then,” Aziraphale said, clamping down on the dozens of things he had to say. He wanted to grab Crowley by the face and confess his love as well but he noticed Crowley had called his feelings for The White Knight ‘love’ and his feelings for Aziraphale merely ‘feelings.’ It was a reminder that this was a marriage of convenience and he was silly to ever think otherwise. He could never bother Crowley with his feelings, much less something as intense as love. “I’ll lead the investigation and handle the charges made against The White Knight.”

“You’ll do that, for me?” Crowley asked, visibly relieved. “I’m worried they’ll hurt you.”

“Then I suppose it’s a good thing I can handle myself,” Aziraphale mused, smirking at his husband. 

Crowley looked up from his papers and frowned, putting away his quill. “Gabhasti, let’s talk.”

Gabhasti looked, in one word, terrible. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, clearly from crying, and there was no emotion there, only numbness. “About what?”

“How did the talk go with Savaric?” 

“He left me,” Gabhasti told him, his chin wobbling. “I don’t blame him either. I never deserved him just like I never deserved Kione.

“Gabhasti-”

“Will you allow me to stand in as The Black Knight?” Gabhasti interrupted him, his eyes haunted. “Let me track down The White Knight-”

“No,” Crowley told him firmly.

“Why not?” his friend asked, desperate. 

“It’s too dangerous right now. I’m not sending any of us out in that armor,” Crowley explained, his voice still firm.

“I have nothing to lose.”

“Bullshit!” Crowley snapped. “Gabhasti, you’ve been my friend for more years than I can count with my hands but I think this needs to be said. You’re so quick to become a martyr for the cause, for the men you love, when all the men you love want is a bloody apology. You’re clearly sorry for lying to Savaric but has that word even crossed your lips in all this time!?”

“No… no it hasn’t,” Gabhasti admitted, visibly deflating. “What if it’s too late?”   


“Then accept it,” Crowley told him. “However, you’ll never know if it’s too late unless you try.”   


Savaric opened the door and nearly immediately closed it but Gabhasti caught the door. “I’m sorry!”

“You’re sorry!?” Savaric snapped, opening the door and leaning against the wall. “What a far cry from earlier when you told me you shouldn’t have ever kissed me.”

“I only meant you deserved better than what I gave you-”

“That’s not up for you to decide!” Savaric nearly shouted. “You can’t break my heart and then insist that what we had together should’ve never happened. You were my first everything! I gave all of myself to you!”

“I don’t know what to do to make this hurt go away,” Gabhasti admitted, his voice wretched. “All I know is that even though I don’t deserve a second chance if you would give me one I would spend the rest of my life earning back your love.”

Savaric’s eyes welled up with tears and he quickly wiped them away, clearing his throat. “Well, the apology was a start. As for the rest, I would like to get to know you- the real you- and I think it’s best if you and Kione make amends as well.”

“What does Kione have to do with anything?” Gabhasti asked, confused.

“Because you still love him and he still loves you,” Savaric pointed out. “I guess I should admit I’m quite attracted to him as well.”

“Are you saying you’re going to choose between us?” he asked, feeling something inside him break.

“No, I’m saying that I would choose both of you if given the chance but if you’re uncomfortable with that, I’ll be happy with just the two of us,” Savaric responded, thoughtful. “I don’t think Kione is a problem in our relationship so much as he may be what’s missing in our relationship.”

“Oh,” Gabhasti mumbled.

“I don’t have plans tomorrow night,” Savaric offered.

“May I take you to dinner?” Gabhasti asked, completely thrown for a loop. Savaric wanted the three of them to… just be together? As much as he would love being able to freely love the two of them, he had no clue how this would work.

“You may,” Savaric agreed, smiling weakly. “Goodnight, Gabhasti.”

“Goodnight,” Gabhasti responded, watching as Savaric closed the door. He waited a few moments, reeling from their conversation, before turning to leave. He paused when the door opened again and turned back around.

“I can’t sleep another night without saying this,” Savaric told him before he could ask why he’d come back to the door. “I love you, I didn’t stop just because I was hurt and upset. Don’t accuse my love of being conditional.”

“I didn’t think you’d be able to love me as I am,” Gabhasti admitted. “I have nothing to offer you aside from the life I made following Crowley. It isn’t an easy life, being the husband of an exiled prince-”

“I would’ve chosen that life, thousands of times over. I would’ve always chosen you,” Savaric told him, his tears spilling over. “Blast all of this, I can’t do this anymore!”   
  
“I understand-”

“No, you idiot,” Savaric half sobbed- half laughed, stepping closer. “I can’t sleep another night without you. Was all of it real except for your name?”

“Yes, everything was real,” Gabhasti assured him, reaching over to brush away a stray tear with his thumb. “You are everything, Savaric. I truly thought I was doing the right thing and I’m sorry that you found out in such a terrible way. I truly am.”

“I forgive you, just please- please don’t ever lie to me again,” Savaric sobbed, pulling him in for a kiss.

“I won’t,” Gabhasti promised against his husband’s lips, pulling him closer. “I won’t ever lie to you again.”

"I love you, Gabhasti," Savaric told him.  
  
He shivered at the sound of his name leaving those beautiful lips as he dove in for another kiss. "I love you too."

Aziraphale smiled to himself as he watched Gilbert- Gabhasti and Savaric enter the dining hall holding hands, both having obviously been crying but still appearing to have made up.

Yahvi seemed to have noticed as well because she smiled at Aziraphale. “It appears I get to keep my beautiful brother in law. I’m glad my little brother didn’t let him go.”

“I’m not through with our conversation from earlier,” Aziraphale responded primly. 

“I am,” Yahvi told him, still amused. “You are such a prissy thing. I _like_ it.”

Aziraphale bristled and looked away, blushing at her giggle.

Lucifer sat at the table across from Aziraphale, eyeing him with clear disdain. “I haven’t seen you around the castle today, my son in law. Have you been avoiding me?”   
  
“No, of course not,” Aziraphale responded, remembering Crowley’s suggestion. “That would imply you intimidate me enough for me to waste time on you, which is not the case. I was just being repeatedly buggered by my husband, I’m afraid.”

Yahvi nearly choked on her drink as Lucifer turned a strange shade of red. “I see even being mated did nothing to quell your disrespectful attitude.”

“Did it not?” Aziraphale asked him sarcastically. “Perhaps I should try it more then?”

Crowley sat down then, ending the conversation. Aziraphale smiled at him and Crowley smiled back, subtly winking to indicate he noticed Aziraphale following through with the plan.

The rest of dinner went rather smoothly, albeit the moments when King Lucifer made attempts to antagonize Aziraphale and the omega would respond with a snarky response.

In the privacy of their bedroom that night, Crowley pulled Aziraphale toward the bed. “Any plans for tomorrow’s farewell party for the king?”

“I have one,” Aziraphale hinted, gasping as he was pulled onto his husband’s lap. “I suppose I can tell you later.” 

Douglas rapped on the front door of the tavern before stepping back as the door opened. He frowned, not seeing anyone until he looked down.   
  
Wide curious eyes the same shade of blue as Aubrey’s stared up at him. “Who are you?” the little girl inquired.

“My name is Sir Douglas. What’s your name?” he introduced himself as he crouched down to eye level with her.

“Carina,” the girl responded, curtsying. “I’m friends with the prince!”

“Are you?” Douglas asked, chuckling in amusement.   
  
“Yes! I met him yesterday!” she enthused. 

“He’s quite fancy isn’t he?” he inquired, amused and already planning to tell Aziraphale about his little fan.

“Oh, yes! And pretty!” she enthused. 

“Is your mommy home? I was hoping to speak with him,” Douglas inquired.

“Yeah, but he’s sleepy because he worked really hard yesterday,” Carina told him solemnly. “I’m worried he’ll get sick.”

Douglas frowned at that. “When does he take a day off?”

“My birthday,” Carina told him. 

“I won’t wake him then. I brought my own tools and I was going to repair the shutters since I broke one.”

“How did you break it?” Carina asked him.

“Um- Well, I was just being silly and pulled on one is all,” he told her.

“Yeah, you should fix it then,” Carina told him, her voice grim. “Mommy says it’s only polite to apologize and fix things when you break them.”

“Your mommy is right,” Douglas agreed, standing up.

As he repaired the shutter, he thought about what Aubrey’s day to day life was like. He was a single mother and owned a business that tended to draw crowds of rowdy alphas. It can’t be easy for him.

“I told you not to let my daughter see you!” Aubrey’s voice snapped, interrupting his thoughts.

He sighed, pulling a nail from where he’d been holding it between his teeth and began hammering it. “I thought that rule applied to me leaving your bedroom. I apologize.”

“What are you even doing!?” Aubrey inquired, still clearly upset.

“I’m fixing the shutters. I broke one and couldn’t help but notice a lot of them are nearly falling off-” he began.

“I didn’t ask you to do things for me,” Aubrey sighed, deflated. “I have work to do.”

Douglas bristled. Ungrateful- his thoughts trailed off as he realized the fence was in desperate need of repairs. “I suppose I can get to that next.”

“Can I help?” Carina inquired, approaching Douglas.   
  
“Hmm, I think you can, actually,” Douglas told her, handing her a small bucket of nails. “Be really careful to not poke your fingers but when I ask for a nail pass me one.”

“Yes, sir!” she enthused, excited to help mend the fence. “I’m glad you’re mending the fence because sometimes mean dogs try to be mean to my kitty cat.”

“You have a cat?” Douglas asked, smiling when the little girl lit up at the chance to talk about her pet.

“Her name is Cow and she’s soft and fluffy,” Carina told him matter of factly. “Mommy says I can keep her as long as I take good care of her and don’t let her scratch tavern guests. Cow doesn’t scratch though so it’s fine.”

“Cow is an unusual name for a cat,” Douglas observed. “I like it.”    
  
“I picked it!” she told him smugly. “She’s round and white with black ears.”

“Makes sense,” Douglas agreed. “Pass me a nail?” 

There was a clinking of glass and the two of them looked up to see Aubrey setting out drinks. “Carina, darling, I made rose drink, your favorite. Douglas, I brought you a glass as well, seeing as how you insist on doing work I have no money to pay you for.”

“Carina’s helping so it’s honestly not much work, much less something I require payment for. Right Carina?” Douglas addressed the little girl already sipping her rose drink.   
  
“We’re gonna fix everything for you, mommy!” Carina enthused.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, darling. Sir Douglas has his own life to get to, right Douglas?” Aubrey asked him pointedly.

“Oh, I’m not busy right now,” Douglas said, grinning at Aubrey’s glower. 

“So can you come to play tomorrow?” Carina inquired, seemingly oblivious to the silent conversation happening between the two adults.

“Sure thing! Maybe we can paint the fence?” Douglas asked her.

Aubrey rolled his eyes before ducking down to kiss Carina on the cheek and remind her to wash up for teatime before walking back into the tavern to work.   
  
“Mommy doesn’t like you,” Carina told him. “I think it’s because you broke his shutter.”   
  
“So I’ve noticed,” Douglas said, grinning as Carina burst into a fit of giggles. “Well, the joke is on him because I’m going to be so nice he’ll have no choice but to like me. I’ll grow on him like a mold or a fungus.”   
  
“Ewe!” Carina squealed, laughing.

“Maybe something more pleasant?” Douglas asked her, fighting a laugh.   
  
“Grow on him like… flowers in the cobblestones!” Carina suggested.

“Oh, but I do wish to annoy him,” Douglas told her, mock pouting. “Perhaps we should paint the fence a silly color?”

“I like you,” Carina told him, holding up her glass.   
  
“The feeling is mutual, little lady,” he responded, amused as he reached over and clinked her glass against hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Douglas and Carina are my new favorite duo to write, I'm not gonna lie LOL


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: brief slut-shaming, violence
> 
> Special shoutout to CandyQueen for helping me with the sword engraving, she's amazing and so is her writing so check her out on Ao3!!
> 
> **NOTE** Okay I think this has to be said because I don't want any misunderstandings
> 
> This isn't the end and Lucifer isn't the worst person they're going to have to deal with. There are one and a half more prophecies to knock out and possibly more to come. Please be patient with me, I'm trying my best to tell a story and I'm working 50 hours a week right now. It's not easy. :(

Crowley placed a kiss on Aziraphale’s nose before nuzzling his neck, waking his husband up. “Angel, my angel.”

Aziraphale made an unintelligible noise before batting at Crowley, grumpy. “Give me a moment, dear. I feel like I’ve been riding a horse for days due to my husband wanting to bend me in every position he could imagine last night.”

“Well, not  _ every _ position,” Crowley teased, his voice suggestive. “I have a few more in mind if you’ll let me show you.” He accentuated his point by licking and sucking on Aziraphale’s mating mark, making the omega’s entire body shiver with anticipation of being taken by his alpha.   
  
“No! No, you fiend!” Aziraphale said quickly, sitting up to avoid the temptation. “I have too much to do today and you must give my body time to recover.”

“Alright,” Crowley responded, smiling and leaning in for a chaste kiss. 

Aziraphale twisted the blankets in his hands shyly as his husband moved to leave the bed. “Perhaps something quick would be fine?”   
  
“Something quick?” Crowley asked him, raising an eyebrow.   
  
“I could suck you off,” Aziraphale offered, crawling to the edge of the bed and nuzzling against his husband’s erection. “I want to suck you off.”

Aziraphale looked up at his husband’s face as he heard a sharp intake of air. Crowley’s eyes were molten gold as he moved to grip onto Aziraphale’s blond curls gently. “Is that what you want? You don’t have to.”

“I know,” Aziraphale told him softly. “I want to. You make me feel good and I want to do the same for you. Please?”

“As my husband wishes,” Crowley drawled, teasing with a small hint of command in his tone.

Aziraphale giggled as Crowley finished tying his gown before swatting his bottom. “You bloody bastard,” Crowley groused without any heat.    
  
“You loved it,” Aziraphale teased back.    
  
“Oh yes, almost as much as I’ll enjoy doing the same to you,” Crowley responded, stepping toward the wardrobe. “I happen to know you’ve never had your orgasm stopped or delayed so seeing as how you want to be a tease, two can play that game.” He reached deep into the wardrobe before pulling something out. “On a safer subject, I have something for you.”

“A gift?” Aziraphale inquired as his husband led him to sit at the edge of their thoroughly rumpled bed. 

“Yes, a wedding gift,” Crowley told him. “I was waiting for the right time.”

Aziraphale opened the box before pulling back the velvet to reveal a blue scabbard gleaming with silver swirls. The handle of the blade inside the scabbard was white and adorned with silver angelic wings. “Darling… it’s beautiful…”   
  
“Read the blade,” Crowley pressed, smiling gently.

Aziraphale felt a knot in his throat as he drew the sword from its scabbard. He barely had time to appreciate the weight and balance of the sword before his eyes were drawn to the inscription running along the dull side of the blade. “She who separates true kings from tyrants…” he breathed the words, stunned.   
  
“Read the back,” Crowley pressed again, clearly happy with Aziraphale’s reaction.   
  
“Justice and Mercy, long may they reign,” Aziraphale read, his voice choking up. “This is beautiful, thank you.”

“I just want you to know that whatever you’re hiding, whatever you think will make me lose faith in you, it won’t. I’ve known many men that have called themselves loyal and brave and not a single one of those men’s bravery and loyalty could ever have held a candle to yours.”   
  
“I feel as if you already know,” Aziraphale told him, shaking.   
  
“I don’t know for sure, but I suspect. Whether you want to tell me now or years from now won’t change the way I feel about you so take your time. Tell me when you’re ready. You are my queen. If you choose to take the path of justice before you take the path of truth, I will support your decision,” Crowley told him, cupping the trembling hand that held onto the blade. “What do you choose?”   
  
“Justice,” Aziraphale answered, the tremble in his hands stilling. “And then the truth, all of it.”

“So all that’s left is to attach the top to the bottom of the gown?” Aziraphale clarified, eyeing the low cut sheer blue top with bell sleeves. It was reminiscent of the gown he was wearing the first time he and Crowley had kissed. 

“Yes, your highness. May I ask if you would like me to rush? Your husband requested this gown be finished a week from now.”

“I want to wear the top as a shirt. Do you have any trousers to match?” Aziraphale asked. “I need it by this afternoon. I apologize for the short notice but my husband would be happy to pay you more for your troubles.”

“I could do that!” the tailor insisted, already walking toward a table piled with pre-made trousers. “Perhaps form-fitting and white? I could add a cape to your shirt and a half skirt onto the trousers in no time.”

“Sounds lovely!” Aziraphale told him, grinning.

Aubrey walked out of the tavern and stopped short, his mouth falling open slightly. Douglas stood up and wiped the sweat off his brow, having forgone a shirt in the heat of midday. Sweat droplets rolled down his chiseled chest…

“Did I do something wrong again?” Douglas asked, snapping Aubrey from his staring.

“Actually, everything you’ve done so far has been wrong. Namely, because I didn’t ask for help nor did I need any,” Aubrey snapped, crossing his arms.

“You didn’t ask but you definitely needed the help,” Douglas told him, sighing as if Aubrey was a child that needed to be corrected. “There’s no shame in needing help-”

“You know nothing about me!” Aubrey snapped, his hackles rising. “I’ve done everything for myself for as long as I can remember. I have never needed an alpha to fix anything for me and I definitely don’t need one now!”

“What does our gender have to do with anything!?” Douglas snapped back. “You’re busy working and raising a daughter all by yourself-”

“Yes, exactly!” Aubrey interrupted. “I’m busy and I think I should make it clear for the sake of both our time that just because I let you fuck me doesn’t mean I’m interested in you being my alpha.”

“I think you should know I don’t do commitment,” Douglas responded coolly. “I hope you don’t think I’m pursuing you.”

Aubrey scoffed and muttered something under his breath. “Right, well Sir Douglas, it was fun but don’t come back.”   
  
“No can do,” Douglas told him, putting on a shirt. “I promised Carina I would be back tomorrow.”

“She’s a child!” Aubrey sighed, exasperated.

“She’s old enough to know that it’s not okay to break a promise and I refuse to be the adult to teach her that it would be,” Douglas said pragmatically.

“Alright, well after tomorrow make yourself scarce. I don’t want my daughter getting attached to some alpha that decided to wander back,” Aubrey told him, turning to walk away.   
  
“Aubrey?”   
  
“Yes?”   
  
“Can I get my boots back, please?”

Aubrey’s lips twitched into a devious smirk that Douglas couldn’t see. “I’ll let Carina hand them back to you tomorrow.”

He walked into the tavern, not noticing the way the alpha stared after him.

Douglas found himself smiling as he set off for home.

Tomorrow. He’ll be back tomorrow.

Crowley slouched in his seat as King Lucifer droned on and on, pretending to be interested. Where was Aziraphale? Did Lucifer succeed in snatching Aziraphale right from under his nose?

The doors opened and Aziraphale stepped through, his head held high. There was a ripple of conversation throughout the room as more party guests saw his attire.

He was wearing a tight-fitting shirt and trouser set, the top completely sheer. Crowley felt his lips curl into a sultry smile as his husband approached him. “My angel, you look ravishing.”

“As do you,” Aziraphale responded, bending over to kiss him and causing another ripple of scandalized conversation. He pulled back with a smirk before taking his place next to his husband.

Lucifer glared at him from across the table. “I guess they’re letting omegas wear anything nowadays,” he observed, the judgment clear in his voice.

“You’d be correct,” Aziraphale told him, plastering on a saccharine smile. “Despite what you may believe, omegas are capable of their own decisions.”

“My apologies, Aziraphale,” Douglas cut in, taking a seat next to him.

Aziraphale wrinkled his nose as Douglas sat down, completely ignoring Lucifer’s rapidly growing anger. “You smell disgusting.”

“I was repairing a tavern all morning,” Douglas said defensively. “I attempted to bathe but the alpha smell wouldn’t come off.”

“Speaking of,” Aziraphale singsonged before lowering his voice. “Aubrey!? Really!?”

“You… you know Aubrey?” Douglas asked him, sheepish. 

“Yes, I know Aubrey!” Aziraphale hissed, exasperated. 

“His daughter is a fan of you?” Douglas tried, embarrassed.

“Oh, that little darling? I adore her,” Aziraphale smiled, distracted by the mention of a little one.

“I do too!” Douglas agreed, thankful for the change in subject. “She was my helper all morning until she had to go in for a snack. I left shortly after. Aubrey had sent me off quite rudely.”

“Aubrey is rude because he’s spent most of his life struggling, especially with alphas. Give him time to soften up,” Aziraphale told him, winking. “He can be sweet when he wants to be.”

“I’ve yet to see it. He’s either bossing me around in bed or telling me to sod off,” Douglas groused. 

“Why do I get the feeling you were stubborn and refused to sod off?” Aziraphale asked him, his voice dripping mirth.

“I made a promise to Carina and I intend to keep it,” Douglas told him, entirely too innocent. “She reminds me of Milly when she was little. I can’t tell the little biscuit ‘no.’” 

Aziraphale buried his head in heads to muffle his laughter.

“Does my son know you’ve been fucking his friend?” Lucifer spoke up, loud enough for Crowley to hear.   
  
Crowley raised a nonplussed eyebrow and Aziraphale fought back a smirk. If this was how Lucifer wanted to play… Aziraphale was all too happy to play along.

“Oh, of course!” Aziraphale told him, laughing. “My husband knows all my  _ dirty _ little secrets, including your attempt to coerce me into assassinating him.”

There was a ripple of shocked conversation among the banquet guests. Yahvi, who was seated next to Lucifer, smirked into her wine goblet and was obviously pretending not to hear what was being said.

“You vile little liar,” Lucifer laughed, clearly attempting to play this off as an omega crying wolf.

“I do not lie. You were explicit in your instructions then went on to tell Crowley that either he was to force himself on me to make an example or I would be killed,” Aziraphale said, his voice firm and carrying across the room as he stood from his seat to look down at Lucifer from across the table. “I assume you heard back from your hired mercenaries that your kidnapping attempt didn’t succeed?’

“I should’ve ordered you dead, you smart-mouthed bitch!” Lucifer shouted, standing up and drawing his sword. Both Crowley and Douglas stood then, hands on the hilts of their swords.

“You should’ve,” Aziraphale agreed, his voice icy. “Because now you’ve completely pissed me off.”

“I should’ve known better than to hire a bunch of half-brained Gaians to do the job,” Lucifer told him, stepping onto his seat and onto the table. “If you want something done, you have to get it done yourself!” He accentuated his words with a downward swing of his sword.

There was a loud metallic clang as his sword connected with Crowley’s. Crowley grunted as he deflected the blow before kicking the table and knocking Lucifer off balance. “Yahvi, you saw him draw a sword on my mate, right?”

“Clear as day,” Yahvi responded, clinging to Douglas’s arm, clearly shaken up from how fast she had to get up from the table. “King Lucifer, you have committed an act of war against your own regent, thereby giving him the right to take your life and this country for his own.”

Lucifer stood, clearly angry. “My son wouldn’t kill me! He doesn’t have the bollocks!”   


“You’ll be surprised at what I’m capable of,” Crowley responded, raising his sword.   
  
“Why? Because you love that omega slut?” Lucifer asked, his tone mocking. “He doesn’t love you! He only loves the power that you give him-”   
  
“You will not speak of my mate in such a way!” Crowley snapped. “I love him because he’s fierce and loyal and so incredibly brave it makes me want to be worthy of him!” He turned his head in Aziraphale’s direction and they locked eyes. “I love him so much that it never mattered that he doesn’t feel the same way. It never mattered when he didn’t speak to me, his quiet presence was enough. His love of old things and the sparkle in his eyes when he talks about food or books… it’s always been enough.”

Aziraphale felt like the wind had been knocked out of him for a moment before he recovered his thoughts. He fought back a blush as he looked his husband in the eye. 

“What is the punishment you choose?” Crowley asked him. “My queen, my judgment, my mercy.”   
  
“Death,” was Aziraphale’s response. 

“My own son wouldn’t kill me!” he tried again, losing his thunder.   
  
“Pick up your sword, father,” was Crowley’s response as he stepped forward, his eyes golden steel. 

The room erupted then, some into panicked shouts and their attempt to escape, and the rest were the guards from all three countries drawing their swords.

“Aziraphale, get somewhere safe,” Crowley shouted before lunging into battle against Lucifer. Several of Hell’s knights moved to join the fight but were quickly subdued by Millicent, Gabhasti, and Thurstan. The three of them moved outward then, cutting down anyone who would dare interrupt the fight between the two men.

Aziraphale jumped over the fallen table and drew his sword. “Alright, Yahvi, get behind me. Douglas? Savaric?” His friends were by his side in an instant, Savaric to his left and Douglas to his right. The three of them made a sort of triangle formation around the empress before Kione closed in, bringing up the rear. “We’ll get the empress somewhere safe. I think Crowley has this fight handled.”

“As you wish, my queen,” Douglas answered, rolling his shoulders to prepare for the fight.

“Aye, sir!” Savaric enthused, drawing his sword.

“I’ll protect my empress at all costs,” Kione told them, drawing his swords as well. “As well as the queen who granted me mercy.”

They moved as one fluid unit then, cutting through Hell’s guards and making their way toward the exit. A panicked shout caught their attention and they all turned to see Clara cowering against the wall, her hands thrown up, pleading for one of Hell’s guards.

“Please! Please don’t kill me, I- I’m unarmed! I never hurt anyone!” she sobbed, pleading.

Douglas moved faster than Aziraphale had ever seen him move to cut the guard down. He helped the trembling woman up and quickly moved her into their ‘circle’ to be protected.

“Thank you, Douglas,” Clara sighed in relief, calming down somewhat and her smile returning. “You’re my hero today!”

“Where’s Beezlebub and their mate?” Aziraphale inquired, realizing someone was missing from this fight.

“Beezlebub is a lot of things but they truly love Dagon,” Douglas told him, grunting as he whirled on a guard and cut him down without hesitation. “They’re probably getting her to safety.”

“We’ll take Hell another day then,” Aziraphale told him, his voice firm as they approached the exit. The room seemed to quiet then and Aziraphale looked around at the massacre before him. Crowley was silhouetted next to a stained glass window, his chest heaving and his sword dripping.   
  
Lucifer lay dead at his feet.

“Another day,” Aziraphale repeated. “For now, we’ve won.”

Aziraphale wrung the cloth in the basin before returning to wiping the blood off the cut on Crowley’s arm. His husband sat quietly, lost in thought as Aziraphale helped tend to his wounds. “It’s silly,” Aziraphale observed, attempting to diffuse the tension between them with humor. “We both fought today and yet you’re the only one injured. You’ll have to be careful or I’ll start showing you up.”

Crowley snorted softly, smiling despite his gloomy mood. “Oh yeah?”

“Oh, definitely,” Aziraphale insisted as he began to wrap a bandage around his husband’s arm. “It’ll be quite embarrassing for you.”

“I wouldn’t be embarrassed,” Crowley told him softly. “Only proud.”

Aziraphale blushed as he gathered his courage. “I know,” he murmured as he tied off the bandage. “You’ve never been such a weak man that someone else’s strengths offended you… that’s one of the reasons I love you.” He felt a twinge in his abdomen and ignored it, knowing what was coming but not knowing how to approach the subject with Crowley. It was so embarrassing the last time…

“Aziraphale, you don’t have to-” Crowley began, his voice wretched.

“I know,” Aziraphale interrupted, stepping in between Crowley’s legs, his face heating up as he cupped his husband’s cheeks and tilted his head up to face him. “I know I don’t. I do though- love you, I mean. I love you very much.”

“I love you too,” Crowley breathed, the tension in his shoulders relaxing. “I killed my father today,” he said suddenly, his voice choked.

“You were protecting us,” Aziraphale assured him softly, tucking a red curl behind his husband’s ear. “It was the only way to stop him.”

“I know, I just… I didn’t want it to come to this, but I needed the push. It was the only way to make things right,” Crowley told him, wrapping arms around his middle and burying his face in Aziraphale’s soft tummy. “Angel?”   
  
“Yes?” Aziraphale inquired, trembling.

“Are you in heat?” Crowley asked softly.

“I am,” he admitted. “It seems the omega part of me loves having such a protective alpha.”

“Can I… can I stay with you?” Crowley asked him, inhaling deeply. 

“Yes!” Aziraphale told him quickly. “Please- I want-” He broke off, unsure of how to articulate what he wanted at that moment.  Crowley looked up then and they locked eyes, both their pupils blown wide with lust. “I’ll give you what you want,” his alpha promised, already seeming to know Aziraphale’s desires, his hand cupping Aziraphale’s bottom before moving up to hook onto the waistline of his trousers. “I’ll give you  _ everything _ you want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley both have a heroic husband kink and I love that for them lol


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY this chapter took so long!! Life got super hectic and then I had a writer's block but I'm good now!!!
> 
> CW: references to noncon, brief domestic abuse (Not Aziraphale and Crowley)

“Are you in heat?” Crowley asked softly.

“I am,” he admitted. “It seems the omega part of me loves having such a protective alpha.”

“Can I… can I stay with you?” Crowley asked him, inhaling deeply. 

“Yes!” Aziraphale told him quickly. “Please- I want-” He broke off, unsure of how to articulate what he wanted in that moment. 

Crowley looked up then and they locked eyes, both their pupils blown wide with lust. “I’ll give you what you want,” his alpha promised, already seeming to know Aziraphale’s desires, his hand cupping Aziraphale’s bottom before moving up to hook onto the waistline of his trousers. “I’ll give you everything you want.”

Aziraphale gasped as he was suddenly flipped onto the bed, flat on his back. Crowley immediately swallowed his gasp with a kiss so intense it made Aziraphale’s toes curl. “Crowley, darling-”

“I’ve got you, angel,” Crowley assured him, placing a tender kiss on his cheek before reaching down and pulling his trousers half off, exposing his wet sex to the cool room. Aziraphale attempted to squirm under his alpha’s gaze but the trouser bunched around his knees hindered his movement. The omega in him preened at the idea of being powerless underneath his alpha while Aziraphale himself preened at the idea of being able to trust one person so completely.

Crowley was kissing him again, this time deeper. Aziraphale opened his mouth to allow Crowley’s tongue while moving his hands down to unlace Crowley’s trousers.

The air was growing thick with the sweet scent of an omega in heat and Aziraphale could feel Crowley’s hands on him turning rougher as he inhaled more and more of Aziraphale’s scent. It was driving them both mad, a delicious sort of torture.

Crowley shoved into him as soon as his cock was free from the confines of his trousers, no longer present enough to care about his usual teasing. His alpha instincts were kicking in, telling him to take his omega hard and fast, to make sure that his omega would carry his child.

Aziraphale was helpless to do anything but cling to his alpha as Crowley fucked into him at a brutal pace. Aziraphale could only shift his legs together underneath him in an attempt to wiggle out of his trousers. Oh, how convenient a gown would be at a time like this!

The cloying smell of an omega’s heat completely permeated the room, lulling both their senses. Aziraphale distantly heard screaming and growling, but somehow it seemed far away as he sunk deeper and deeper into the smell of heat, sex, and alpha.

“Crowley! Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” he screamed, snapping out of his haze as Crowley bit into his mating gland as if to mark him a second time.

Somehow he’d ended up on his hands and knees with Crowley fucking him from behind. His clothing was discarded carelessly around their bedroom and Aziraphale winced both at the damage Crowley must’ve done to his new clothes and the fingers digging into his thighs. 

A new scent was filling the room, something deep and alluring. Crowley’s thrusts were becoming brutal and erratic, almost feral. His hands were gripping onto Aziraphale’s thighs like the omega would run from him… like he was holding him down.

  
The realization that his alpha was in a rut slammed into Aziraphale with force and he whimpered, baring his neck for his husband, his alpha. Crowley immediately latched on with a small growl, sucking at the sore skin around the mark and drawing blood from the bite he’d given Aziraphale just a few moments before.

“I’m gonna fill you up,” Crowley growled, low in his ear. “I’m gonna fill you to the fucking brim until you’re swollen with my child.”

“Yes-Fuck! Yes! Yes!” Aziraphale wailed, pushing back on Crowley’s cock.

“You’re mine,” Crowley told him.

“I’m yours,” Aziraphale agreed. “I’m yours, alpha!”

“Everyone will know,” Crowley continued, placing a hand on Aziraphale’s stomach. “Everyone will know,” he repeated.

The possessive tone made Aziraphale shiver in delight as he bared his neck again for his alpha, his mind clouding over again as their mingled scents filled the room.  


Douglas sat down next to Carina. “What’s that?”

Carina pouted as she accidentally poked her finger with the needle. “I’m embroidering something for mommy.”

With a smile, he admired her handiwork. It was a simple embroidery of a flower on a handkerchief and clearly done by a child, but he could see real potential for her in the future if she kept practicing. “I think he’ll love it. Where is he?”

“Oh, he’s upstairs,” Carina told him, her features scrunching in such a miserable way it concerned Douglas. “With the bad man,” she clarified.

“How is he bad?” Douglas asked her, feeling apprehension.

“He yells at mommy a lot, mostly about me. I don’t know why,” she told him, looking miserable. “Every time he comes here he makes mommy go upstairs with him for a long time and mommy always looks like he’s been crying when he comes back down.”

Douglas felt a flash of anger and was just moving to stand up when Carina spoke again in a quiet voice.

“That’s why I like you. You make mommy laugh and he smiles when you’re here.”

A man descended the stairs then, a familiar kick in his step and a smug grin that Douglas wanted to punch off his face. The man stopped short when he saw Douglas with Carina. “Aubrey, just who the fuck is this alpha?”

Aubrey followed behind him, his eyes swollen and puffy along with his lips. “He’s nobody. Go home. You got what you wanted.”

“I don’t think he is. Since when do you let alphas around that brat!?” the man snapped.

Douglas felt the little girl next to him flinch, either at the man’s anger or the insult aimed at her. Either way, he wasn’t standing for it. This man wasn’t going to talk to this little girl like that. Not this one.

“Carina,” Douglas spoke up from where he was sitting. His voice low but carrying.

“What!?” the man sneered. 

“Her name is Carina,” Douglas said, standing up. He spoke to Carina over his shoulder. “Sweetheart, go upstairs to your room and play while I talk to your mommy.”

Carina’s big eyes widened as she stared up at him. “You’ll keep mommy safe? You won’t let him make mommy cry?”

“On my honor,” Douglas promised. Carina nodded before scurrying up the stairs, quickly running past the man as if she feared him. Douglas wanted to kill him for whatever he had done to scare that little girl. 

He looked past the man and addressed Aubrey. “Are you alright?”

“He’s fine,” the man answered for Aubrey. “What happens between me and my omega isn’t some other alpha’s concern.”

Douglas scoffed then, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword. He didn’t look at the man though, his eyes only watching Aubrey. “Did he hurt you?”  
  
Aubrey’s lip trembled for a moment before his face crumbled. “Douglas, stop-”

“Did. He. Hurt. You,” Douglas asked him, enunciating every word. He saw the conflict on Aubrey’s face as if he was afraid of something. “You can answer honestly. I won’t let him hurt either of you.”

“‘Let’ me!?” the man roared. 

“Geoffrey, stop-” Aubrey began, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder.

The man shoved him off and Douglas’s control snapped before Aubrey’s body even hit the stairs. 

Geoffrey stared at the sword against his throat before his eyes snapped up to meet with Douglas’s cold glare. “Leave.”

“M-My omega-” the man stuttered out.

“He belongs to himself, not you. If I see you around him or Carina ever again I will kill you,” Douglas growled, letting the alpha seep into his tone.

“K-Kill me?” the man tried for a nervous laugh, despite the sweat dripping down his face. “I’m a knight of the king-”

“I’ve sworn allegiance directly to our queen, who will not only grant mercy for taking the life of a pathetic miserable excuse of an alpha such as yourself but encourage it as well. He’s a vicious thing in that respect. He’s also rather fond of Aubrey and Carina, much like myself,” Douglas told him, a condescending smirk splitting his features. “Nothing to say to that, huh? Fucking cowardly little bitch. You want to bully an omega and a little girl but when faced with an alpha ranked higher than you, you tremble like a leaf.”

“I-I didn’t realize you were of such high social standing, sir- But you have to understand, my omega is out of control. He sleeps around like a-” Geoffrey began before breaking off into a whimper as Douglas’s blade dug into his throat enough to draw blood.  
  
Douglas’s gaze was cold as he eyed him. “Finish that sentence. Don’t be scared.” It was obvious from Douglas’s tone that Geoffrey most definitely should not finish that sentence. “Geoffrey, Geoffrey. How funny you should pull the rank the queen has stripped you from, or have you forgotten? My, being a sexist pig really could land a man in some trouble, huh?”

Aubrey placed a trembling hand on Douglas’s elbow. “Douglas, he’s not worth it. Just let him go.”

Douglas dug his blade into Geoffrey’s throat further, just to make a point, before roughly kicking him down. “Leave before I change my mind and decide to end your pathetic excuse of a life.”

Geoffrey ran to the door before whirling a glare at Aubrey. “That alpha can’t keep me from my own child! I’ll take her with me by the end of the week. You aren’t suitable to be a parent!.”

Aubrey was shaking as the man left. Douglas touched his shoulder but drew back when Aubrey visibly flinched. “What the fuck is wrong with you!?” Aubrey shouted at him, tears streaming from his eyes. “He’s going to take Carina!”

“He can’t take Carina!” Douglas snapped back, stepping forward. “I refuse to let some prick alpha talk to you in such a way! Much less address Carina as a brat-”

“She’s not yours!” Aubrey snapped, backing away. “I don’t know why you care so much but it’s none of your business-”

“I care about Carina, of course, it’s my business!” Douglas snapped as well, but not stepping forward. 

“Why don’t you go have your own kid!? There’s plenty of omegas willing to let you fuck them-” Aubrey sneered, breaking off when Douglas quietly answered what was supposed to be a rhetorical question.

“I’m sterile.”

Aubrey stared at him, open-mouthed. 

“I can’t go have my own. You’re right. I’m not Carina’s father. I’ll never be anyone’s father. But I do care about her and I definitely won’t let someone call her a brat and think they’ll get away with it,” Douglas told him, his voice unwavering.  
  
Aubrey seemed like he wanted to respond when his face suddenly grew pale and he pitched forward. Douglas caught him easily and hoisted him up. “Are you alright?” 

“No,” Aubrey admitted, sniffling. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Then don’t talk about it. What do you need?” Douglas asked him, carrying him up the stairs.  
  
“I need a bath and clean clothes,” Aubrey mumbled, not looking at him. Douglas could smell the alpha’s scent clinging to Aubrey and knew what it meant. It wasn’t something that needed to be said.

Douglas prepared Aubrey a bath and then asked for permission before helping Aubrey undress. The omega wouldn’t meet his eyes and Douglas made a point to avoid looking at his nude body as he helped him into the tub. “I’ll be back with a change of clothes.”

He brought Aubrey his clothes before returning to his bedroom. With a frown, he opened the windows to air out the scent of the alpha before gathering his bedding and replacing it. He then sprayed the bed with some of Aubrey’s perfume. He hoped it would dissipate the scent enough so Aubrey could sleep stress-free.   
  
He then checked on Carina, who was intently working on her embroidered flower. She perked up when he opened her bedroom door. “Did you make him leave?”

“I did. Your mommy is taking a bath before he goes to bed. You should go to bed soon, too,” Douglas told her.

“Yes sir!” she chirped, burrowing down into her covers and staring at him expectantly.

“Is there something you need?” he asked, raising a brow.

“Mommy reads me stories,” she explained.

“Ah,” Douglas grunted, moving to grab one of the worn books on her night table before sitting next to her. 

“Can you tell me a story, instead?” Carina asked him. “I’m sure you know a bunch!”

Douglas sat the book down and thought for a moment before he began to sing.

_“Once in a land, far away_

_With her two loyal friends, a girl would play_

_She was tall and fair, with long dark hair_

_A beautiful little lady, aye._

_A princess born of night? No._

_Just a lovely lady knight._

_She defied every vassal and every king._

_She turned down every diamond ring._

_Though her might could give one a fright,_

_No heart was as gracious and pure_

_No morality and code so sure,_

_As Milly the little lady knight.”_

Carina’s eyes widened in awe. “Lady Millicent has a song about her!?” 

“Yes, she does. You stay true to yourself and you’ll have a song written about you too,” Douglas told her, ruffling her hair.

“I won’t allow you to be a knight. It's far too dangerous,” Aubrey spoke up from the doorway, his expression worn but amused. “Don’t let Sir Douglas and his terrible singing inspire you.”

“As a fellow knight, I’ll give you pointers,” Douglas whispered loudly, winking as Carina giggled. 

Carina wiggled underneath her blankets as Aubrey leaned down to kiss her forehead goodnight.   
  
The two adults stepped out into the hallway. Aubrey broke the silence.

“Thank you. I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Aubrey told him.

“You were stressed, it’s understandable,” Douglas told him, backing away. “Well, uh- Goodnight-”  
  
“Will you stay?” Aubrey blurted, his face darkening. “Not for… that. Just… I don’t want to be alone.”

Douglas nodded. “Where do you want me to-”

“With me,” Aubrey interrupted him, looking away. “I just need to be held for a while.”

It didn’t take long for them to get into bed and Douglas took Aubrey into his arms as if this was something the two of them did often. He didn't want to think about why holding Aubrey felt as natural as breathing. “Is this okay?”

Aubrey inhaled deeply, before relaxing. “Yes, thank you. I still smell him here and… your scent is comforting.”

“Aubrey, if I didn’t know better, I would think you liked me,” Douglas teased.

“Douglas, if I didn’t know better, I would think you wrote that stupid song you just sang my daughter,” Aubrey snarked back.

“You’d be correct. I sang it to her all the time when she was small like Carina and still liked bedtime stories,” Douglas told Aubrey, unashamed.

“I’m sorry for earlier too, I didn’t know children was a sore subject for you,” Aubrey told him, the teasing gone from his voice. “I guess I felt… upset. At you seeing me after…” he trailed off, burning his face in Douglas’s chest.

“It’s fine, really,” Douglas told him, patting his head. “It’s just a boring story. I had a wife when my parents died and I took in Milly. She was fine with me raising Milly at first, and she and I were also trying to have children of our own. Obviously, it didn’t work and her anger at our situation wasn’t helped by me treated Millicent like she was my own. My wife then had an ultimatum, her or Millicent. My choice was obviously going to be Millicent. Nothing has or ever will come before my baby sister.”

“You’re a good man,” Aubrey murmured.

“So are you,” Douglas responded. “You’re a good parent to Carina. She’s going to grow up to be such an incredible person because of you.”

Aubrey pulled back from him slightly, his chin wobbling. “Do you promise he can’t take her?”

“If he tries, I will kill him and no one will ever find the body,” Douglas assured him, more serious than he’d like to admit. “Legally, he can’t. Whether or not you have an alpha, there’s plenty of witness to you raising her on your own. Carina didn’t even call him her father.”

“That’s because she doesn’t know,” Aubrey told him, shaking. “I wanted him as far away from her as possible. He left me for another omega that was a higher status when I became pregnant with Carina. Eventually, Geoffrey grew bored of his new omega and came back to me. Obviously, I refused but then he threatened to take her away if I don’t comply. As an alpha-”

“I won’t let him,” Douglas told him, his grip on Aubrey’s waist tightening. “He won’t touch you again either. No one will ever touch you without your consent again if you’ll allow me to help.”

“What do you want?” Aubrey asked him.

“To fix your damn shutters without reprimand,” Douglas snarked, ruffling the omega’s hair and pulling him forward to his chest. “Now go to sleep.”

Aubrey did fall asleep then, worn from the abuse of the evening. Douglas just held him, daring to run a gentle hand through Aubrey's blond curls. Holding Aubrey was as natural as breathing.

He didn't want to think about the suffocation that would surely come when he had to let Aubrey go. This, holding someone like this... wasn't ever in the cards for him. Holding someone else, feeling Aubrey's steady heartbeat against his own, and hearing his soft sighs as he slept...

All it did was remind him that no matter how many bodies filled his bed, there was a part of his heart that would always feel empty.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all SO MUCH for reading and I hope you all enjoyed it! Be sure to leave comments and kudos because I literally live for them <3


End file.
